Final Battles
by Javanyet
Summary: The rebels hope a strategic raid on the L.A. Library will turn the tide of the war in their favor.
1. Small favors

"Look I didn't ask for the Farber Report, I just asked how you think she'll do!"

Maggie and Angie had managed to pry the scheduling details of the Visitor Youth Program event from Daniel and Todd, and the raid was set for Saturday, two days away. On the firing range Tyler and Farber were finishing up the setup of weapons and uniform assignments for the strike teams that would take part in the operation that everyone hoped would mark a turning point in the rebellion, and not just for the L.A. resistance.

As the "tactical coordinators" sorted supplies and checked the weapons Tyler was wrestling with doubts about Angie's stability. Her entirely-too-cool attitude toward the whole thing had raised a red flag. Someone stepping into a shooting war for the first time should be showing at least a few nerves. Someone who might end up facing her first kill should _definitely_ seem a little more uncertain. Angie's ice-cold "no promises" remark in response to the proposal of taking Peterson prisoner (an idea Tyler liked, even if Parrish's "let's be civilized" approach made him gag) had him worried. Personal agendas were natural in a beginner, but letting them play out would get the wrong people killed. In the days that followed the first planning meeting Angie had revealed nothing more than her original expression of disdain, and he hadn't asked for specifics. If anything, she'd seemed more settled, and confident, and _horny_, than ever before. Many men would happily have welcomed that situation, but for Tyler it was ringing some unsettling bells. Part of Tyler's special ops training was in psychology, and he knew too well that what some would read in normal circumstances as positives should be interpreted in wartime as major negatives.

So finally he'd asked Farber, who after all had a reasonable amount of insight on Angie Harper. And who had answered with predictably annoying logic:

"You're asking the wrong person, bro. Now you know I've been giving you guys some space because I figured you needed it, to get things squared. But I _also_ figured maybe you got past the 'no questions' bullshit you two were always bragging about. You wanna know how she'll do, ask _her_ not me. If she don't wanna answer, you can read what she _ain't _saying." He paused to check the action on an automatic pistol, then continued casually, "Unless you lost your edge."

"Well if I _had_ I wouldn't be asking, would I?" Tyler snapped back. He finished checking the voice synthesizers and had begun laying each one, just below the visors, on each folded uniform in the row laid out on the table. After neatly placing just two he continued by slamming them down haphazardly.

"Feel like a fucking camp counselor," he muttered then added out loud, "and by the way, fuck you. 'I dunno' would've done just fine." When he turned he saw Farber standing still, grinning broadly at him. "What _now_ Dr. Freud?"

Chris laughed and shook his head, and stepped forward to slap his friend on the shoulder. "Love sure does complicate war, huh?" Then, as if his own words had reminded him of something he should have thought of already, he grabbed Tyler's shoulder a little harder. "She'll be okay, brother. She's going right into the fire with us, eyes wide open and all in charge of her own thing, not waiting behind trusting some paper pushing brass assholes to take care of her."

The hardness left Tyler's face for just a second. "Small favors, huh. But that's not all of it."

"Nope." Chris took a final walk down the line. Everything was in order (of course): uniforms, visors, and voice synthesizers on one table and weapons on the other. Without looking up he advised, "But the rest of it, you gotta ask her. One way or another, she'll let you know." Suddenly he laughed, and faced Tyler with a knowing grin.

"You _know_ that woman can't lie to save her ass unless she's on the clock."

Tyler nodded and managed a laugh of his own. "Another 'small favor'."

"Take 'em where you can get 'em, bro." Then Farber nodded toward the distance. "Head's up, here come the campers."

"Ah shit, don't spread _that_ around," Tyler grumbled. "They still haven't got over being a herd of cats."


	2. Final considerations

Maggie chose her uniform, goggles, and voice synthesizer and she and Angie (who would need no disguise) were looking over the weapons. Maggie took an Uzi and several magazines of Teflon-coated "lizard busters". Angie picked up a Visitor hand blaster and was testing how well it could be concealed it in the back waistband of her jeans. It was slightly bigger than a low-end cell phone; small enough to tuck away conveniently but large enough not to "disappear" at an inopportune moment.

"So does this gun make my butt look big?" she asked, turning her back to Tyler and Maggie, who groaned loudly at the bad joke.

"Very funny," Tyler dismissed, then pointed out, "but you've been doing pretty good with the Beretta, maybe you should stick with something familiar." He tried to hand Angie one of the small, lightweight automatics.

She didn't take the weapon. Instead she wheeled, whipped the hand blaster from behind her back and hit the firing range target very close to its center with the first blast. Turning back to Tyler (who was clearly impressed) she told him, "I'm _better_ with these, even the big rifles. Just point and shoot, no recoil, no reload, no ammo to carry." She hefted the small device in her hand. "Don't ask me why, but it just feels natural."

"Now _there's_ a new side to 'computer geek'," Donovan observed as he took one of the larger Visitor rifles and Tyler's offered Beretta for good measure. "Just covering all the bases," he explained.

Tyler was inclined to lecture Angie as he had most everyone else on whatever weapon they considered. "Look, there's more to those lizard guns than just pushing a button."

Nobody was allowed to simply pick one without demonstrating they could use it effectively. Since Tyler hadn't personally overseen the training of every member of the rebel camp, he was paying close attention to them all. _Just one of the crew,_ he'd lied to himself as he'd held out the automatic pistol he believed Angie would manage better than the lizard blaster.

Angie regarded Tyler with exaggerated patience, and declared, "Well now, I think I got this button thing figured out… level one, immobilize." She pressed a button and shot at the target again, lightly burning a hole in the target covering.

"Level two, debilitate," Angie pressed another button and shot, leaving a sizable, smoldering hole in the target's center.

Another button, another shot, and the top half of the straw-and-cotton stuffed target vaporized, leaving the remainder in flames. "Level three… adios, motherfucker."

She faced Tyler again, this time wearing a perfect copy of his "barracuda grin".

"How'd I do, coach?"

"Starting lineup," he told her with an approving nod, admitting (at least non-verbally) when he was wrong. "And remind me not to piss you off unless I pat you down first."

"Ooh, _promise?_" Angie purred with a sly smile, and was rewarded when Tyler's eyebrows rose.

As always he recovered quickly, and promised Angie in a dark voice, "Got my hands full with _other_ things right now, but later... they're all yours."

As usual Donovan shook his head at the two of them. He still had a hard time getting his head around it... computer geek and Fixer, even if Angie was developing a respectable "edge".

"_Way_ too much information," he muttered to himself as he walked away.

* * *

The final mission meeting, comprised only of the participants in the next day's raid, convened early that evening so everyone could get some down-time and a good night's sleep.

"I think we all have a grip on what we're going to do," Julie announced. "I don't need to tell you that we're hoping all this work and recon marks a real turning point for us, and not just because of the Visitor Youth Program we'll be disrupting."

"Oh great, no pressure there!" Angie piped up.

Robert quieted the scattered laughter with a raised hand. "One change in plans. We want to take David Peterson alive. That assignment has been given to Mike and Tyler's team, since Peterson will be with the families and kids we're going to be rescuing."

Angie was glaring. "What the hell do you want _him_ for? He's no good to us."

"You're wrong about that," Donovan corrected her, "Martin's people have dug up a little more on him than we knew before. Turns out he was working with the Visitors before they even arrived in Boston. Nobody could have pulled off this invasion without a lot of advance knowledge about Earth and its international relations, behavior, and all that. They did their homework, and recruited key 'consultants' all over the world to feed them the information they needed, and make it easier to infiltrate. Peterson's only one of the 'advance consultants' in the U.S., but he's the only one we can identify. And if we can get our hands on him we can try to find out who the other key earth players are and set other cells from the worldwide network against them."

"That's a lot of ifs and maybes," Angie countered. Tyler was frowning at her, as was Farber.

"It's not your call," Maxwell reminded her, "and it's not going to be in your area anyway. Stick to our own team's mission, getting the biophysics modules. We'll have our hands full with that."

"When we're through with him you can have a crack at him," Tyler promised, mostly to gauge her reaction, which turned out to be an acid smirk. Good, he could tell she was taking Maxwell's words seriously. If she wasn't, she'd have that one-way look going that everyone else would be reading as agreement. Nope, she looked pissed off, which meant she'd follow orders even if she disagreed with them.

"No thanks." Angie's curt reply confirmed Tyler's read of her, "Just make sure you bury him deep."

* * *

"Okay Willie, looks like that's all there is and there ain't no more." Angie, Willie, Robert and Julie got up from the table where Willie had laid out the diagrams (provided by Angie) of the biophysics division's IT center. When Willie, who really had gotten quite accustomed to most of Angie's odd verbiage, looked confused, she added, "We're done here."

"Oh. Thank you."

"No Willie, thank _you_," Julie leaned forward and grasped his hand. "We wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

When Willie opened his mouth to deflect the praise (as he always did) Angie sidled up to him and grabbed his arm. "Not another word, okay? I'm just your remote-controlled spybot… or whatever. Julie's right, you gave me the background, the context, all the info about your people I needed, and of course the language."

At this Willie smiled brightly, all awkwardness gone. "At last, I have the gift of language!" and the others cracked up.

"Okay, like you said, we're done here," Robert announced. "Now everybody, down time until our respective report times tomorrow. And _you_," he pointed at Angie, "don't be late for work!"

"Not a chance. Here's the passes," Angie handed Julie a box full of the duplicate passes, two for each team member. They were so important it had been decided to hand them out just before they left the compound. "Don't lose 'em!"

Julie winked. "Not a chance."

* * *

"Got a light, lady?"

At the sound of Tyler's voice Angie looked up from where she sat on the sand. It was nearly sunset.

"You don't smoke," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but it's still a great pickup line."

Angie rolled her eyes and laughed. "Well it's a step up from 'get outta that car and your hands better be empty'." There was still enough light to see Tyler's expression of shocked innocence.

"Did _I_ say that?"

"I'm pretty sure it was you," Angie squinted in faux uncertainty, "it kind of got drowned out by the blast from your Uzi."

"I favor the direct approach," Tyler shrugged. "Saves time."

She snorted. "This from the man who's 'never in a hurry'." She continued to laugh as Tyler reached over and dragged her closer to sit in front of him between his outstretched legs.

"Only in certain matters," he reminded her before starting a slow circuit of kisses that began under her left ear, inched along the back of her neck, and ended under her right ear.

_My god why does his beard feel like velvet when any other guy would be like porcupine quills? Why the hell ask why??_

"Mmm, I stand corrected."

After a minute or two of quiet and breathing Tyler asked, "So you ready for tomorrow?" Before she could answer he added, "And don't play me, Angel, I know you too well." He could feel her brief, silent sigh.

"I'm ready to lose another never. Or at least I'm expecting to." A second later she corrected herself. "No, I think I already lost it. I want him dead, Ham. I don't care how, but I want him dead. I've never really wished that before. I never _meant_ it, anyway." She was grateful for the way his arms tightened around her just a little. He felt so good, it couldn't _not_ make her feel a little better even when her head was scrambled.

"That lizard skank won't last long in a firefight from what you've told me."

"I don't mean him. Todd, or whatever his real name is, he's no better than he should be, for who he is. He's not even pretending to be. I guess he _would_ be pretending if he didn't think I was on their side, but my guess is he's just a regular science grunt like a lot of the others. He could have worked me over good to establish the end of our 'arrangement', it's obvious he accepts that as normal like they all do. But he didn't, he just sort of... faded off a little. Doesn't make him a good guy, just maybe a little different from some of the others. Daniel, he gets off on messing with people and causing pain. Todd, he's just another functionary I guess." She felt Tyler's grip on her harden a little.

"Yeah, real hero. Well don't expect me to shake his hand until _after_ I blow it off."

"You're not likely to cross paths," she told him vaguely. She didn't particularly want Todd to come to harm, but all in all she wouldn't shed any tears if he did. He wasn't the psychopath that Daniel was, but they wanted the same thing... the enslavement of Earth and subjugation of humans. David, on the other hand... "But I'm telling you, if you want David alive I meant what I said, I can't promise anything if I see him first. I'll bet every dime I don't have that he didn't even have a wife or family. I think everything, even our cheesy affair, was just part of a cover to seem like a regular asshole. I mean guy." In academia, they were often one and the same.

"No offense taken," Tyler told her. "And I do believe you're starting to think like a professional. Guys like Peterson orchestrate every bit of their 'outside' life, somebody in as deep as he was with the lizards would leave nothing to chance."

Angie leaned her head back against Tyler's shoulder. "Do you think he might have gotten anything from me he could have used against... you know. Do you think that's part of why he picked me? Because I wouldn't pay attention to anything but his brainpower, and would spill all sorts of shit?"

He knew what she wanted to hear, and for once he could honestly let her hear it. "You said yourself you didn't remember any questions like that... and with all that 'wondering' shit you get into, by now you'd have remembered something to pick apart a million times and 'what if' to death." He brushed her hair aside and spoke quietly against her temple, as if the words would get in quicker that way, "You got it right the first time. He needed someone to firm up his cover, and you were there. A guy in his position wouldn't pick some bimbo or judge or shrink... he'd find someone where he was doing his business for the lizards, somebody who'd fit with his phony life."

"Well thanks for saying I'm not a bimbo," Angie turned her head to kiss Tyler's furry cheek. "But I wouldn't mind you rating me with a judge..." She could feel him shake his head.

"Uh-uh. You're too shifty."

"What about a shrink?"

"You kidding?" Tyler's out-loud laughter shook them both. "Too _crazy!_"

Angie broke from Tyler's grip and pivoted in the sand to counter sharply, "So you're saying I'm a shifty, crazy broad... don't forget I can take you out with a hand blaster at a hundred paces!"

Tyler rose on his knees and grabbed Angie by the belt to pull her hard against him.

"My kinda woman," he growled.

* * *

In spite of all of their suggestive talk during the day, later that night neither Tyler nor Angie was "in the mood". The possibility that it might be their last night together, given the dangers of the day to come, dialed back the heat they'd been generating in private. Since Tyler's return from Mexico their sexual relationship had risen to a level that matched (and sometimes exceeded) the more "cerebral" connection they'd discovered not long after meeting, as if they both were making up for lost time and past mistakes. Neither one of them, though, wanted to treat this particular night like some kind of potential "goodbye present" before a final battle.

As Tyler slid into bed beside Angie (who had already burrowed in and was snoring quietly) he considered the possibility that, even as the war had intensified, he'd felt his own rage and turmoil easing. Could be coincidence... could be something else. All deeper considerations aside, he could at least admit the discovery of one simple blessing: the deep, dreamless rest that he found when he slept with this shifty, crazy, lizard-blasting sharpshooter tucked under his arm.

"My kinda woman," he whispered to the dark.


	3. Truth and dare

_Kitchen at the rebel camp - 7am_

"Lively bunch… I hope you all wake up by the time I get you there," Chris Farber drawled as he entered the kitchen and poured himself some coffee.

The strike team members were slouched around the table over their morning coffee, lost in their individual thoughts. At this point none of them were inclined to discuss anything about the coming day's events… meeting upon meeting and various more personal conversations had wrung every single thought out of them. Now they were simply enjoying a last few "regular" moments before Farber drove them to the library. All except Angie were dressed in Visitor uniforms, their visors lying on the table next to their coffee and whatever else they could manage to eat for breakfast (not much).

Angie was wearing her usual work attire, the black slacks and tomato-red polo shirt marked with the Visitor symbol for her division. Her braid was poked through the back of the black squared off cap that bore the same symbol above the bill. As she'd dressed earlier the motions that had become automatic on countless semi-conscious mornings were newly significant. _This is the __last_ _time I'm putting on this crap_, she thought to herself. _The last time I'm playing collaborator, the last time I have to pretend to like the scumbags I work for, the last time_ and she was so ready for it. The fact that it might be the first time for some other things too, well she managed to cram that to the back of her mind. Would it be the first time since Boston that she saw David? For all of her poisonous threats (and she meant them, whether or not she'd actually be able to carry them out) Angie fervently hoped that she wouldn't ever see him again. What scared her wasn't what she'd do, but what she might _feel_. Feelings, she'd learned, were not governed by intentions or even conscious desire. She was terrified that if she saw him, in that first non-thinking second, she'd feel that rush she'd always felt when she saw him before. That little spike of good feeling you get when someone returns whose company you looked forward to. The same feeling she got when Tyler came into the room. Feeling that again for David Peterson, even for an involuntary nanosecond… that would weigh on Angie more than her sexual encounters with Todd. That look of acceptance Tyler always wore when he could tell she was thinking too much about her nights with Todd, she'd never see that in response to whatever David's appearance might trigger in her. She'd never be able to tell him, even though he'd know there was something digging at her. Maybe that's what worried her the most, that even after killing her friends and lying to her and using her, David's final offense might be to force on Angie one tiny room in herself that she'd never be able to open. _I'll run, _she promised herself,_ that's what I'll do. If I hear David's voice or his step – oh god, I know that step, don't I, just like I know Tyler's – I'll run like hell no matter what and leave him to somebody else to kill. _Of course if they did capture him alive… no, she wouldn't think of that. She slammed the last of her coffee and stood up.

"'kay, _compadres_, I gotta go give my notice." That's what they'd been calling it, "giving her notice". It was a joke, kind of, but not. She looked around the table. Which one(s) might she not see again? Julie, Donovan, "Big Bear" Farber? Robert Maxwell, or maybe Caleb and Elias, the father and son that only war could bring together? Maggie… that one Angie refused to consider, as her friend smiled at her dark joke. Tyler wasn't there with the others. No surprise. Of course Angie herself might be one of the ones who didn't come back, though that concept seemed so bizarre to her it didn't distract her much. It was also possible that they'd all get out of it alive… stranger things had definitely happen. The fact that she was here at all proved that.

Those assembled variously wished her luck, Julie offered "see you at 9:30", which is when she and Robert were going to show up in biophysics, half an hour after the Visitor Youth event started. Maggie just smiled a little harder and tipped Angie a wink.

"We're gonna kick some ass," she promised Angie. "And you and me, we're gonna get _extremely_ drunk after!" It was a promise they'd made before to one another, that they'd celebrate the end of possibly the ugliest personal chapter in both their lives with a ritual to mark at least the beginning of a return to normal, a way to kill that part of their past in one fell swoop.

"You bring the bottle, I'll bring the straws," Angie laughed. When Donovan queried, "What about glasses?" she shot back, "Glasses are for pussies. You see any pussies in this room?"

"Not a one," he grinned.

* * *

Without further comment Angie headed out to the motor pool. Though she was neither disturbed nor surprised by Tyler's absence from the morning coffee swill, she idly wondered where he was. Probably doing one last obsessive check of the his weapons, or the layout of the library she'd provided. As she neared the exit of the building, she nearly collided with Willie.

"Hey! You give me a heart attack, we're done before we start!" she teased. She was beginning to feel a little edgy, needing to get this thing going, and having no experience in a real raid the ifs and maybes were beginning to poke their heads out in spite of the detailed briefings she'd attended.

"I am sorry," Willie apologized quickly, "I did not mean to surprise you." Suddenly he looked a little awkward. "I wanted to wish you pluck."

It wasn't that she'd been taking it for granted, but it wasn't until she saw him standing there in front of her, his expression a mix of things he was obviously trying to sort out on his own, that she really understood how much of this operation, how much of _her _assimilation into the rebel group, was his doing. They'd worked together hundreds of hours, Willie patiently teaching and Angie desperately absorbing as much as quickly as she could. He'd helped her tamp down her frustration and absorb it all, calmly and methodically, always forgiving of her impatience and stumbling. She knew how much he wanted to be a part of today's raid because gaining control of the science knowledge of the Visitors was the one way that the war could be cut short, that things could be solved short of wholesale slaughter. He wanted that, maybe more than some of the rebels. He simply wanted all of this fear and rage and carnage to _stop_, and he wasn't alone.

"Thanks, Willie," Angie hugged him impulsively. "And I promise you get first crack at the module when I bring it back."

Willie's face brightened even as he shook his head to disagree. "We will work on it together. Hurry, you must not be late to 'give your notice'." He hesitated a moment, then hugged Angie and kissed her cheek as he'd seen other humans do to one another. Then he let her go, and looked nervously around them.

"What's wrong? That was very sweet, thank you."

"I do not know if Mr. Tyler is nearby."

As she laughed out loud Angie managed to gasp, "Don't worry, Willie, he's not the jealous type. I don't think he can imagine anyone else putting up with me. See you tonight."

* * *

Donovan slapped the kitchen table and rose. "Okay, let's roll."

Plans had changed slightly, in that when they came out of the library they'd be picked up by one of Martin's 5th Columnists in a Visitor sky cruiser (tracking devices removed, of course) placed among a few others in the rear parking area. They'd be flown to a location some miles from the actual rebel compound, where Farber would have the van waiting for their return to camp. Donovan and Martin had gotten word to members of another Resistance cell, via their L.A. personals code, and the human rescue mission would be undertaken by those rebels, who would take away whatever kids and families who could be persuaded to leave.

Everyone stood and looked at each other. The teams had been kept small, having been pared down from the original number after some training and evaluation had selected the best members. Robert, and Julie would go to biophysics to get Angie the data module. Willie had given Angie a simple code that she would enter into the root directory of the computer first thing after arriving for "work". If it worked properly it would muck the system up enough to confuse communications and hopefully screw up the security tracking system on the ground as well, so chaos would be on their side. Donovan, Tyler, Elias, Maggie and Caleb would go to the event area, planting explosives to take out the communications and as much computer library file equipment as they could. More personnel were devoted to their team because the job was more complicated than pulling computer parts, and speed was important. Elias had been a little bothered by the notion of destroying all of the library's central files.

"_Seems to me this kind of mess always starts with somebody burning books," Elias had observed. "It doesn't seem right to me that we should have to do the same thing to stop it."_

_Angie had responded with a sad shake of her head, "Believe me, it's not really a library anymore. It's a control center for the occupation, nothing more. Those books have been gone a long time, only instead of just burning them, first the Visitors picked the ones that would help them find new and better ways to take over. Whatever's in that building worth saving, we'll be taking with us."_

"Where's Tyler?" Elias asked as they filed out to the side yard to pile into the van.

"Don't worry about him," Farber dismissed, "he ain't gonna miss the bus."

* * *

He wasn't inclined to offer any predictable "Be careful" parting words. To be honest there was no rote romantic cliché here for him to react against; he knew she'd laugh that off anyway. He just wanted to see her, ready to do what she had to do. He hadn't taught her everything himself, but he needed to know that what she'd learned was enough. Whatever it takes to do what's right. And for some mad reason he believed he'd know all of it if he saw her right now, before she went to do what all of them had to do.

As she approached the door of her predictable ratty nondescript blue sedan that everyone at the library had become accustomed to Angie wasn't surprised to see Tyler, in full Visitor uniform, sitting on the hood. She walked right up to him, not stopping until she was standing between his knees, and kissed him.

"What's that for?" he asked, though he hadn't backed away any sooner than absolutely necessary.

"I dunno," Angie shrugged, "in case I slept through you wishing me luck again."

"Nah, I left you alone. I didn't want you waking up and seeing me dressed like this." He was studying her in that way he sometimes did, figuring her out, or memorizing her, or both.

She laughed and took a step back, "I'm seeing you _now_."

"Well now you're wearing your lizard suit too… cancels mine out."

"And you call _me_ crazy…" Then he pulled her forward again, surprising her. "What?"

One arm around Angie's waist, Tyler was tracing a finger aimlessly along her cheek. His finger stopped where the edge of her upper lip was marked by the tiny, white scar he'd left behind that time he "helped" her. He could always find it, even in the dark.

"Cut it out." She didn't like it when he did that, and tried to pull away but he wouldn't let her.

"You're up to something, Angel, I can tell. Something that's not on the menu." He held her firmly, face-to-face.

_Clever._ So she told him, part of it anyway.

"I found a way to weasel into a file called 'friendly humans'… real clever sneaky name, huh? I'm gonna download it into a parallel sub-module inside my computer station, and pop that out to bring back. Robert and Julie will get the biophysics one like we planned, but I'll have my little bonus too." Tyler looked less impressed than she expected.

"Bonus, right… lemme guess, that'll make Peterson expendable." She blinked and tried to look over his shoulder, but he caught her chin in his hand. "Now is _not _the time to play me."

Pissed off that he'd found her out so easily, Angie managed to twist away. "I gotta go, see you tonight," but Tyler slid off the hood of the car and grabbed her hard by the arm.

"Not yet. First you tell me that you are _not_ gonna fuck this up by freestyling, and you better make me believe it."

"I don't have to tell you _shit_, lemme go! They're waiting for you, aren't they?" Angie glanced past Tyler in the direction of where the van must be waiting. "Anyway I figured you might not mind having one less thing on your plate, as in keeping something alive that doesn't deserve to be."

In a flash Tyler pinned Angie against the car door, and none too gently. He lowered his voice, speaking almost directly against the side of her head, the way he did when he wanted to be sure she paid attention. As if he were sending the words straight to her brain. "It's not worth it. You know I don't need him alive any more than you do, but like the man said it's not our call." He caught her chin in his hand again and made her look him in the eye. "And it won't help. Take it from somebody who knows. If you killed him a hundred times, it would _not_ make things even, so don't waste another 'never' on something that won't make a damn bit of difference, and don't you _dare_ get good people killed because of it."

Suddenly the fight went out of her, but he didn't let her go. "It's not just that, okay? It's that I know he'd find a way to lie, he'd find a way to use Robert's and Julie's and even Donovan's 'noble' instincts against them. What I take out of there with me today will be insurance, so he won't have the chance." Tyler's hard expression didn't waver. "Okay. _Okay._ I won't blow his balls off one at a time."

"Wrong answer."

She huffed a sigh. "Okay, okay. I won't play my own agenda. I'll leave him to you guys, even if I see him." No response. "I _promise_. Satisfied?"

He drilled into her eyes a second longer. "Yeah. Chris is right, you can't lie worth shit when you're off the clock." He let her go, rather abruptly it seemed to Angie. "Stay focused. I'll see you after." And he simply started to walk away.

_What the hell?_

"_Wait_," Angie chased around the car after him, misunderstanding. "Don't leave like that… I'm _sorry_. I shouldn't have tried to play you. I really won't fuck things up, I swear. I take this whole thing seriously as a heart attack, you'll see, you won't be disappointed." _Do I really sound that desperate? _Yeah she did_,_ but she didn't give a shit._  
_

Tyler turned to see her standing by the car door, keys clenched in her hand, suited up, sorry, and scared. And ready. All of it at the same time. He'd _wanted_ just to say something wiseass and walk away, because it was easier to hold it at arm's length until the adrenalin could take over, instead of wondering what might happen when he wouldn't be there to see it. _Ah, shit..._ He crossed the space between them in a single step and pulled her right off of her feet, so fast she didn't even have time to grab on.

"You never disappoint me," he told her, and kissed her so hard their teeth clicked. Then he dropped her to her feet and walked away.

He didn't look back, but this time Angie understood and just watched him go, keeping a host of conflicting thoughts at bay. She still _wanted_ to find and kill David, a hundred times over like Tyler said, but she wouldn't even if she got the chance. She believed Tyler when he told her it wouldn't make things even, and that it wouldn't help. He's the only one who knew so completely what she _needed_ it to help; she believed him because she knew he wanted David dead, too, for the same reasons she did. Besides, no matter what else you called him, Ham Tyler was a professional and once the plans were laid "there's no room for freestyle." She hoped she could live up to her plans and promises to Tyler, and the others, and herself. She didn't want to think of what would happen if she couldn't.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Angie looked at her watch and nearly panicked. _Shit_, she was gonna be late if she didn't haul ass. She jumped behind the wheel and beat it to town to get to the library in time to take her place as "secondary security" in her division.

"Security, that's rich," she muttered to herself as she drove. "If they only knew."

Well, pretty soon they would.


	4. Agendas

Chris parked the van on a side street a block from the library. "Okay, campers, everyone out", he announced with a meaningful grin in Tyler's direction. The latter was not amused. "See you at the pickup point," Chris continued. "_All_ of you, got it?"

Tyler, Donovan, Maggie, Elias and Caleb were going to blend in with the many Visitors and general public filing into the building. From the lobby they'd take one of the corridors that led to the (former) offices and (current) communications center, where they'd plant the usual C4 and timers. Julie and Robert were headed in another direction, to enter the library through a back entrance.

"We're working light this time," Tyler had explained as they packed up the explosives earlier. "Even lizard TV and radio doesn't take much to knock out. And these extra charges have a little incendiary bonus… buh-bye to recordings and anything they want to store for later 'editing'."

Now the five of them strolled casually toward the entrance, mingling with other uniformed Visitors and civilian invitation holders. No special security passes had been created this time; they used the ones that had served them well on other operations, altered by Angie and Willie for use in this particular building's security system. Dressed in the uniforms, hats, and oversized goggles they blended with the scores of other Visitors. They were scanned through without incident.

"They're getting cocky," Tyler commented as they took a look around the entry hall.

"Looks like holding off on raids for the past couple of weeks was a good idea," Caleb commented under his breath. "They figure they have the upper hand now."

"No brain, no pain," smirked Donovan as Tyler returned from a quick circuit around the room. "Good to go?"

"Yup. Found that exit right where she said it'd be. Looks like real open house day, but I don't think they're gonna be taking anyone on a tour of the communications center. Angie said skeleton crews everywhere except the main halls and auditorium, and broadcast and recording is all set up to go automatic." He grinned and shook his head. "Can't wait to meet Peterson in the 'green room'."

The plan was for Maggie, Elias, Caleb and Donovan to set the charges while Tyler found Peterson. Rather than raise hell by taking him by force, he'd be told there'd been intelligence intercepted from the Resistance that a possible raid had been planned and he'd be taken off-site for his own safety. That'd keep him quiet until they actually were out the back door and into the waiting Visitor sky cruiser.

* * *

Julie and Robert made their way around the rear of the building, encountering a single disinterested guard at the loading bay exit.

"We got called in for extra security," Robert explained. No further explanation was required. When he swiped his access card, that (and his altered voice) seemed to be confirmation enough for the guard. They were inside quickly, and on their way to the biophysics area, using the deserted back corridors that had been indicated on the maps Angie provided.

* * *

"Shit this is just like some dumbass movie cliché," Angie muttered to herself as she monitored the "Friendly Human" download she'd dragged and dropped from the file directory. No little progress bars, flying pages, or hourglasses, just a blinking light on the console whose screen she'd switched off. She was supposed to be simply sitting around in the department to re-direct any visitors (no pun intended) who may wander off the guided tours. And she was to contact central security immediately if anyone truly unauthorized, as opposed to accidental, happened to trespass. As "extra security" Angie hadn't been issued a weapon, but of course she'd brought her own. The automatic scanners she passed through at the employees' entrance every day only detected Earth-type weapons, the hand blaster tucked in the back of her waistband triggered nary a blip. She checked the chronometer on the desk next to her. Julie and Robert were due any minute.

"Hard at work I see."

The unexpected voice shocked Angie right out of her seat, but she had the presence of mind to slide nearby clipboard so it blocked the blinking file transfer light on her console.

"_Shit!_" she exploded. "Are you trying to kill me or what?"

Todd looked a little contrite, for a Visitor anyway. "I didn't mean to startle you. You seemed disappointed to miss the presentation so I thought I'd stay here for awhile and give you the chance to go see some of it."

_Oh, great. What a time to be Mr. Considerate._

"Uh, no that's okay. I don't go in for big crowds. I can catch it later on the Visitor Network anyway." _With any luck it'll be a smoking ruin later. _Was he looking at her a little strangely? Nah, just surprised she didn't take him up on his offer, she supposed.

"I also wanted to explain… I have considered our arrangement… our _relationship_, ended. Because I have learned as much as I believe you could teach me about human relationships. I believed Daniel when he said there was no more point to them than 'getting laid'. I have decided his is a shallow perspective, and there was no further need to engage in intimate relations with you, if it only could provide a limited picture. I have begun to study some human sociology to obtain a fuller understanding."

Angie found it puzzling that he felt he should be telling her this. "Well that's good, I guess. Hey, no hard feelings or anything. I've been pretty busy myself, and you and me, well that was going nowhere fast. And for the record, you're right about Daniel. If he were any shallower he'd be a convex surface." A vague smile appeared on Todd's face, so vague Angie decided it had to be genuine.

"Humor… I'd like to explore that too… but it's seems more complex than interpersonal relationships."

She had to ask. "Why is it you're so _interested_ in all of this stuff about us? I mean, your people are in charge now aren't you? For the most part, I mean. Why be so interested in the details of a conquered race?"

"Because one day I expect we will be sharing Earth instead of conquering it. It will be important to understand the species that we will be sharing it with."

Well. He never had been as militant as some of the others. No better than he should be, of course… he was no Fifth Columnist by a long shot. Angie shrugged. There was no such thing as a benevolent conqueror, so she dismissed his words as idle philosophizing.

"If you're certain you don't want to attend the presentation, I'll return to the event."

"Yeah, thanks Todd but I'm good here."

He nodded and walked away. For reasons she'd never understand, even much later, Angie called after him. "Todd? Tell me something, will you?"

He stopped and turned to face her. "What do you wish to know?"

Angie rose from her desk and took a few steps toward him so she could look him in the eye. "When you decided that we were over, why didn't you do it, you know, 'officially'? The battle, and all that?"

He looked as if she were being obtuse. "There was no need. You're human, not like us."

"So nobody cared that you didn't maintain the ritual, I guess."

"Yes," he nodded, then added casually, "I saw no need to injure you for the sake of a custom nobody would expect."

"Oh. Uh, thanks. See you later."

"Perhaps."

He hadn't been gone a minute when Robert and Julie slipped in through the side door next to the main computer room, a small black satchel slung over Julie's shoulder.

"Okay, point us to the module and we're good to go," she told Angie. "Hey, you all right?"

Angie shook her head to clear it. "Yeah, fine. This way," she led them into the glassed-in room-within-a-room and pointed to a small metallic rectangle plugged into a larger unit. "There it is. I've disabled the data interruption alarm for that module, so you can just slip it out." Robert did just that, and dropped it in Julie's satchel.

"That's it?" he asked. "I was expecting something a little more challenging."

"Well we haven't gotten _out_ yet," Julie reminded him. "Okay, let's go."

Angie was half a step behind them, and then remembered her download (she was not yet willing to share that information with her companions). "You go on, I have to make sure the alarm is permanently off." _Or some such bullshit_, she thought to herself as she returned to her console. Julie and Robert stood staring at her. "It's okay, guys, I know the way, remember?"

"All right, but you'd better be no more than a minute or two behind us. When Donovan and the others come out, we've got to be ready to _go_."

Angie was already at her desk. "Yeah, go on, I'll be right there I promise!" Goddammit, the file still had a small way to go. Well, she supposed it had to be a big one. There were probably plenty of asshole humans willing to sell out to the Visitors.

* * *

Elias and Caleb were busy setting the explosives in the automated communications center, Maggie keeping watch in the doorway, as Donovan caught up with Tyler.

"You sure you don't want me to do this?" It didn't seem to Mike that Tyler was the logical choice for luring Peterson to his capture. Not only was he better suited to make sure the explosives were set and timed properly, there was the matter of Angie's relationship with that sleazebag… it just seemed a little too close to home to have Tyler that involved.

Tyler was glaring. "I know the plan, Gooder, don't worry about me getting it right. You just make sure the job gets finished here, and catch up with me behind the auditorium." From there they'd take the back corridor to the loading bay behind the library, and make the dash across the parking lot to the waiting Fifth Columnist and the "borrowed" Visitor transport. The destruction of the communications center was timed to give them an additional diversion while they escaped, but none of it was an exact science. Before Donovan could respond, Tyler was off to find Peterson.

It was a quick route from the comm center to the "green room" behind the auditorium. Tyler entered without knocking, and found Dr. David Peterson in what could be termed an intimate chat-up with a young lady some years his junior. No surprise there, he was bound to be a serial asshole. He was just finishing telling the young lady in question, who was hanging on every word, about the painful loss of the love of his life… a woman he'd known in Boston, who didn't make it out in time. Tyler felt his commitment to the mission slip just a bit, and barely remembered to engage his voice synthesizer.

"Dr. Peterson," Tyler announced, "its been learned the rebels are planning a raid. I've been sent to keep you secure while the threat is investigated." He nodded to the young woman. "You'll have to leave." _Run for your life, sweetheart._ The young lady reluctantly complied.

"We'll continue our conversation later," Peterson assured her with a winning smile, then turned to Tyler. "How long will this take? I have an important address to make."

_Yeah, how to turn kids against their own_, Tyler sneered internally.

"They'll inform me when it's all clear." He studied Peterson as the latter sat down and reviewed his notes. Just the kind of guy a smart woman would find appealing… if she was blinded by brains.

"Why don't you sit down, no sense not being comfortable while we wait," Peterson invited.

Tyler sat, still looking in the direction of the door where the young woman exited. "Uh-huh," he grunted. "Lots of ways to be 'comfortable' in this occupation, huh?"

Peterson's expression became self-indulgent. "Perks to any job… more power, more perks."

"Go where the power is, and get all you want."

"That says it all." Now Peterson nodded toward the door. "Amazing how many women can't get enough of a good vocabulary and a little intelligent conversation. To think of the time I wasted in my youth, chasing after empty heads."

With a terse gesture indicating the building beyond the room, Tyler noted, "Libraries must be good hunting ground for that." He knew he was flirting with blowing his cover, but cared less the more he saw of this self-satisfied, traitorous prick. Peterson was looking at him a little oddly, though… lizards wouldn't have much of a taste for young human women except in the literal sense. "Get lots of converts that way… for the 'program'."

"Oh, right," Peterson nodded smugly. "Converts, and rebels too. Once you tap into what someone's interests are, it's amazing how quickly they trust you. History and philosophy, two great topics for loosening the political opinions of others."

"Got you pretty far, I guess." It was getting harder to feign neutral lizard interest.

"You have no idea."

"You must have scored some _big_ points back in Boston. Word gets around." _Shit_. Tyler realized his syntax was almost entirely human, but it was too late to shift gears. Peterson didn't seem to notice, he was too into his own ego now.

"I confess my accomplishments there were a hard act to follow. Helping to bring down and entire city's worth of resistance," he leaned forward and winked confidentially, making Tyler want to puke, "not to mention an entire _city_, that laid some important groundwork for what we're announcing today. Whole classrooms of children brought in week by week. More members than the Visitors could ever get on their own, because I'm recruiting their teachers, who will recruit the children, who will recruit their parents, and so on."

"Lots of impressionable women there. That what you did in Boston?"

"No, I simply gained the confidence of a library employee." The smug smile appeared again. "She loved to talk about her friends as much as history and philosophy. It didn't take much to track their activities. And another young lady… well," the smile became a leer. "It's amazing how an earnest, unsociable thing can open up when presented with the right scenario. Frankly I didn't expect she'd 'engage' so quickly with a supposedly married man, it was part of the scenario that I never banked on bearing benefits."

Tyler faked confusion. "Humans are a strange bunch. Being married was like bait?" he asked.

"Actually it was intended to have the opposite effect. Can't have people getting too deep into my day-to-day life, so it was safer to appear hands-off. But this one, well she was surprisingly willing to accept things as they were, so why deny myself a little recreation?"

"Sure, why not?" The edge that sharpened in Tyler's voice got Peterson's attention, and the latter looked at him with open challenge.

"You're awfully interested in my personal life, for a military functionary," he observed suspiciously.

Tired of the game, Tyler rose and checked his watch. "Okay, time to go. We're moving you. For your own _safety_." The last word was grossly exaggerated.

"I don't think so," Peterson sat more firmly in his seat, and shook his head negative. "I think I'd like to have a word with your superior first, to confirm what's happening."

Tyler jerked Peterson to his feet. "I got no superiors, asshole. You're coming with me, and where you're going there's gonna be no recreation, no 'benefits', no nothing but doing what you're told and telling us what we want to know. And no clueless computer geeks to pump for information… or anything else."

Peterson stopped still as he realized something was very wrong, and this person, whoever he was, knew a great deal more than he was letting on.

"Who _are_ you?"

Grabbing Peterson by the collar Tyler glowered, "Friend of Angie Harper. Now are you coming, or do I bust your head and carry you?" Up until the next second, Tyler truly was intending to continue per the rebel plan. That changed as soon as Peterson opened his mouth again.

"_Angie Harper?_ _She_ wasn't any use to me… just a little diversion when I wasn't pumping her _supervisor_ for information." In the extremity of the moment Peterson dropped his superior speech patterns.

The two men glared at each other, Peterson in disdain and Tyler in something very close to a nameless edge he hadn't visited in a long time.

"Did you even try to warn her." No question mark.

"Oh please," Peterson snorted, "I was halfway to Los Angeles by the time the willing Ms. Harper knew what hit her."

Tyler shoved the other man back a step. "Wrong answer." The blast from his disruptor slammed Peterson against the wall. "Eye for an eye," he snarled down at the man whose chest now sported a smouldering hole, "how's that for philosophy?" He gave the body a shove with the toe of his boot, knocking it from a sitting position into a tangled heap.

"_Shit!_" Mike Donovan stood in the doorway, disruptor ready. "What the hell happened here?"

"Asshole drew on me," Tyler growled defiantly.

Donovan came into the room and gave the body a once-over. "With what, his ego?"

The two men stood staring at each other. In all of his years and familiarity with "The Fixer" Mike had never known him to freestyle during an operation, never changing things to suit his own agenda. Something in Tyler's eyes told him that this went much deeper than any operation or agenda and Mike had to admit he couldn't find a reason to disagree with it. He pulled the Beretta, the one he'd brought to "cover all the bases", from the back of his belt, bent down and put it in Peterson's hand. "Must have been this. Who knew he'd have a gun?" He stood and looked straight at Tyler again. "Go figure."

"Thanks, Gooder. I owe you."

Donovan snorted. "For what? Nothing happened here. The asshole drew on you." He leaned out the door and took a quick look up and down the corridor. "Let's get the hell outta here, those charges are gonna blow any minute, not to mention they're gonna be looking for the guest of honor," he jerked his head toward Peterson's body. "Maxwell and Julie and Angie should be at the Visitor transport by now, and the others are on the way."

Leaving the body of the man that neither of them had really wanted to take alive, they took off to meet the others and make their escape.


	5. Getaway

The comm center team raced to the corridor junction on schedule.

"2 minutes to detonation," Elias announced.

"More or less," Caleb added.

All of them gathered their wits and breath before Maggie observed, "If we don't bust a move, it's gonna blow while we're still inside the parameters."

While they were far beyond any area that risked injury, remaining inside the library would expose them to capture and questioning. They set out for the back exit bay at a dead run.

* * *

On the transport cruiser Julie turned to Robert after they'd caught their breath. "Where the hell is she?"

In fact at that moment Angie Harper was hauling serious ass in the direction of her departed comrades, her key data module jammed in her back pocket, hearing (or was she imagining?) the echoes of running feet in her ears. Arriving at the junction of two main corridors she collided with Elias. Doubled over and gasping for breath, she heard Elias ask, "Where's Donovan and Tyler?"

There wasn't time to consider the question as storm troopers came flying around a far corner firing wildly as they approached. The comm charges hadn't yet blown, but someone must have tracked one of the rebels on their route. Disruptor bolts exploded around them as they ran. Maggie brought down two of their pursuers in rapid succession. "_Yeah!_" she shouted triumphantly.

When the rebels reached the next corner they skidded to a halt as the unmistakable rat-a-tat of automatic weapons fire echoed from a side corridor as Donovan and Tyler slid in out of nowhere to join them.

"Where's Peterson?" Caleb asked.

"Somewhere else," he was told as the corridors lit up with disruptor fire. The rebels responded in kind, the rage of noise behind them fading a bit as they advanced to their escape route, turning and dropping their pursuers with their own fire as best they could. They were within a few feet of the exit when Maggie was hit.

"_Maggie!_" Angie shrieked as her friend went down, she tried to go to her and was stopped by Elias, who yanked her flat against the wall. "Dad!" he called, but Caleb was already dragging Maggie along the side of the corridor toward the door.

Now a voice familiar to Angie and Maggie rang out above the firefight. _"Fucking bitch traitors!" _Though she was indistinguishable from the dozens of other Visitors present in the reception hall, Daniel had picked Maggie's voice out and followed her and her companions a short way, then returned to inform a commander that the event had been infiltrated. Now he stepped into the open as if his arrogance could protect him.

"_Stop!" _he ordered.

_The little prick still thinks he's Superman… _Angie whipped the hand blaster from the back of her belt and, pulling free of Elias, blew Daniel off his feet. "Stop _that_, asshole!" she screamed. She aimed again but Elias grabbed hold of her and pulled her along with the others as they raced to the exit door. Maggie, who'd taken a glancing disruptor bolt at the hip, leaned on Caleb as they ran.

They burst out of the rear exit and ran to the waiting cruiser that was camouflaged among the Visitor vehicles. Tyler and Donovan stood on either side of the hatch hollering, "Go, go, go!" and shoving everyone in.

Halfway across the parking lot tarmac Angie felt something slip, but momentum carried her almost to the cruiser before she realized something had been lost. A second to look back, and she saw her "extra" module lying twenty feet behind her. _"Shit!_" Angie screamed to herself (or so she thought) and sprinted back again to retrieve the precious module. At the same moment a muffled "boom" could be heard from within the building, accompanied by klaxon horns and automated announcements. In the midst of the uproar Donovan watched in disbelief as Angie ran back in the direction they'd come from. _What the fuck??_

"_Cover!" _Donovan hollered, and Caleb leapt from the cruiser hatch, with Tyler close behind. Together with Donovan they poured out cover fire, barely over Angie's head. It was enough to hold the storm troopers back for a few seconds.

Angie grabbed the module and scrambled back on all fours to the cruiser, the air around her sizzling with disruptor bolts and Uzi rounds. Caleb and Donovan were first into the cruiser, followed by Tyler who grabbed Angie by the shirt and hauled her in under the slamming hatch. Not that she needed any outside acceleration; in the last few feet of her escape she was dimly aware that she'd never run faster in her life.

"_You fucking psycho!" _ Tyler roared and jerked Angie around, his fist still locked in a death grip on her shirt, "_you wanna kill us all for your __wallet__??_"

Before she could reply the pilot executed an evasive maneuver that knocked everyone off their feet. Suddenly Tyler found himself supporting Angie by her collar, their combined weight having slammed her against the bulkhead, knocking her unconscious. The small black oblong she'd been clutching fell to the deck. The others were pulling themselves together wherever they'd fallen.

"Put her down before you strangle her!" Julie ordered as she left Maggie's side and knelt next to Angie. Tyler lowered her quickly and stepped back.

"Smooth move," Maggie groaned from where she was lying sideways along a couple of seats. Her hip felt like it had an electrical charge buzzing inside, crawly and unpleasant but not overwhelmingly painful. "What's that?" She pointed to the module Angie had dropped. Tyler bent and picked it up, examining it closely.

"Shit," he muttered.

"You can say _that_ again," Donovan quipped.

"Everyone okay back there?" the pilot called out. He'd leveled off the craft and was tearing toward the planned rendezvous point where they'd meet Chris Farber. As expected, the chaos below was delaying any pursuit; still he was taking no chances.

"Pretty much," Caleb responded. "One minor wound courtesy of the storm troopers," he nodded to Maggie, who was rubbing her scorched hip but managing to sit upright, then added drily with a glance toward Angie and Julie, "one 'friendly fire'."

Tyler looked up from the module and glared at Caleb.

"Well what else would you call it?" Caleb inquired innocently, and asked, "So what _is_ that thing that she damn near got fried for?" The others were equally perplexed by Angie's apparently suicidal need to save whatever Tyler was holding.

"Data module," he told them, remembering his and Angie's conversation in the motor pool that morning.

"But she knew Julie and I already had what we went in for," Robert protested.

Tyler handed the module to Maxwell and explained, "She said she knew how to download some extra files the lizards had, records of 'cooperative humans', like Peterson. If she was right, that 'little black book' has contacts all over the U.S. and maybe more." Tyler shook his head and almost laughed, "She was right about one thing for sure… for a heavily armed would-be master race, they sure are sloppy with security." Now he leaned over where Julie was wiping blood from the side of Angie's head with something she'd pulled from a nearby first-aid kit. Still examining Angie's scalp, Julie answered Tyler's unasked question. She sounded as casual as she could manage, given what they'd just escaped, because she knew he needed to hear it wasn't as bad as he was telling himself it was.

"She really bounced hard… there's already a big goose egg here." She looked up at him and added, "She'll be okay, Tyler. No fracture, probably a concussion but we won't know that right away. She got cut, so the bleeding makes it look worse than it is." Behind the hard dark eyes Julie saw more than she felt she should be seeing, so she returned her attention to the wound she was dressing.

"Yeah, yeah, doc, I know, scalp wounds look like a hemorrhage…" he replied just as casually. _Thanks, Parrish. For seeing deep and saying nothing. _"Just tell me," he continued with a lame smirk, "is it gonna make her any crazier?" Before Julie could craft a smart answer Angie's eyes fluttered halfway open.

"Fuck you Soldier of Fortune," she mumbled.

"Angie, do you know where you are?" Julie asked urgently, trying to gauge her awareness.

Angie felt like the explosion they'd triggered had moved right into her head.

"Running like hell, meeting Chris," she managed.

Julie held up her hand, fingers extended. "How many fingers?"

"Three fingers," Angie could make out Tyler standing over them, "one asshole. Whydja _hit_ me," in her confusion Angie believed Tyler was enraged by her frantic recovery of the module, and she was on the verge of tears for more reasons than pain. Everything was still pretty foggy.

"No honey, Tyler didn't hit you," Julie assured Angie as Tyler dropped to one knee next to them, looking like he'd just been hit himself. "The pilot had to move fast, we all got knocked around, it was an accident."

"Thanks for breaking my fall, Angel," Tyler smiled unconvincingly.

Angie opened her eyes a little more, squinting in pain against the light. "Three fingers, one klutz," she corrected her previous assessment. "Who knew there were spaz mercenaries." She shut her eyes again.

"You feeling sleepy?" Julie inquired. She was being watchful for any signs of ruptured blood vessels and other symptoms of more serious head injury. "Nauseous?" She helped Angie into a sitting position, then got her up and onto one of the bench seats set against the bulkhead. Tyler sat on her other side and Angie leaned against him, gratefully accepting the support.

"Not sleepy, but kinda puky," Angie admitted weakly.

Julie grabbed a small flashlight to check Angie's pupils and was relieved to see them react normally. "Probably from all the excitement," she observed.

"Funny word for _that_ shit," Angie groaned.

Satisfied that Angie was okay for the moment, Julie returned to Maggie. "How's that feeling?" she asked as she examined the burnt area over Maggie's hip.

"It was a little jumpy but that's fading. I think it barely got me. Hey, is Angie all right?" She got her answer from the source when Angie raised her pounding head from Tyler's shoulder.

"Yeah, kinda, you?"

"I'll live too. You still up for that bottle when we get back?"

Angie whimpered with the blinding pain of a growing headache, so Tyler answered for her, "I think she's getting the hangover done with first." Then more quietly he summoned Julie, "Hey doc, c'mere and check on this."

"What's going on, Angie?"

"I feel like my head is exploding," she hated the sound of her whining voice in her ears, but she couldn't manage to control it.

Julie checked Angie's eyes again. "Tell me where you are."

"On a stolen transport, after blowing up part of the library." She paused, squinted her eyes shut.

"Who's with you?"

"Uhm... you, you're Julie, Donovan, Caleb, Elias, Maggie, who got shot in the ass," this elicited laughter from the others, "Robert, and that pilot, dunno his name."

"Matt!" the pilot called from the cockpit.

"'kay, Matt."

Julie switched off the light and nodded, reassured. "Well she seems less disoriented, not more."

Tyler shifted Angie so he could look her in the face. "Yeah, well she left somebody out." Clearly this concerned him.

"Okay, you're Ham Tyler, bouncer of women off of walls." Angie muttered.

Laughter now from everyone, except Tyler.

"I'm sorry about that," and Tyler announced to the entire group, "I didn't mean to bounce her off the bulkhead, all _right_?"

"Take it easy, Tyler," Elias laughed. "The way she can shoot that blaster you wouldn't dare do it on purpose. Picked off that punk Daniel without batting an eye."

Maggie, who had been too busy struggling to run to notice Daniel's demise, was on her knees in front of Angie in a flash. "You shot Daniel? Dead?"

"Well, yeah. He was right there with them, stupid enough to stand out in the open. I didn't plan it, his voice just... I guess I went on automatic pilot."

Maggie reached up and hugged Angie, who tried not to react to the blast of pain it caused her. "Don't you dare make excuses. We both know he deserved it."

When Maggie had returned to her seat Robert asked pointedly, "So does anyone want to tell me where Peterson is? What happened to 'no problem I got it covered'?" He looked straight at Tyler, whose expression became unreadable.

"Couldn't find him," Donovan volunteered. "They must have moved him when they figured out something was up."

"I guess we don't need him anyway," Robert mused as he considered Angie's module in his hand, "this might give us a lot more than we could get from him."

It only took another ten minutes to reach the rendezvous point where Chris was waiting. During that time Julie looked looked from Donovan to Tyler and back again. Whatever had happened to Peterson, she was sure they knew something about it. She was equally sure that neither one would ever give it up.

_Well I'll be damned, _Julie smiled to herself, _they're finally on the same side._


	6. The scenic route

They were met by two vans, not one, and neither one was white.

"Wait!!" the pilot Matt ordered, "I'm ready to take off again if we need to."

Through the side window Donovan glimpsed Sancho Gomez climbing out the driver's side of one of the nondescript, beat-up vehicles. A moment later, Willie emerged from the other.

"It's okay, they're ours," Donovan told Matt, "not who we expected, but they're okay."

"Julie, is my head still supposed to be exploding?" Angie asked. She was trying so _hard_ not to sound like a whiner.

Julie went to her and gave a quick once-over, probably the hundredth since they'd taken off. "Sorry, honey, you're gonna have a world-class headache for awhile. If something was really wrong it would be obvious by now. You'd be seeing double, not sure where you are, and very nauseous."

Suddenly Angie was seized by the urge to puke, and doubled over. Nothing came out.

"Two outta three," she moaned.

"I don't understand," Julie mused, "why would you be so nauseous with no other obvious symptoms of a more serious injury?"

Tyler sat up a little straighter, but said nothing. Angie could feel him tense up.

"No chance, trust me," she murmured.

"Heard that before," he responded quietly.

"Later, I'll explain later," and she was seized with another spasm, then something dawned. Sitting halfway upright, she admitted with some embarrassment, "Could be airsick."

No response from either Tyler or Julie, but their expressions were identical: Huh?

"I've never flown before…" Angie told them, then directed to Tyler, "Hey, it never came up!" She shook off Julie's supporting hand as another fruitless attempt to vomit overcame her.

Satisfied that those waiting on the ground could be trusted, Matt opened the hatch. "Okay, everybody out. Thank you for flying 5th Column, have a nice day."

"Tell Martin thanks for the lift… and the comic relief," Donovan said before jumping onto the ground. He was followed by Elias and Caleb, then Maxwell and Julie, who helped Angie. Maggie climbed down unassisted, having nearly completely recovered from her glancing wound. Tyler brought up the rear, ever vigilant.

"Where's Farber?" Donovan wanted to know.

"Word was they had a hint of what was up, so we went with plan B. We're gonna take the scenic route instead of the original plan," Sancho explained. "Chris is back at the compound, we figured it was better to go with faces nobody much saw before." He noted Donovan's questioning look toward Willie. "By now the lizard's figure he's dead. And he can drive like a pro, he's been trained by the _best_." Sancho's proud grin announced who had done the training. Given that Sancho had been on both sides of the smuggling and sneaking road, Donovan was reassured.

"Okay," he pointed to the two open doors, "pile in! Doesn't matter who rides where, we're all headed to the same place."

Angie stumbled on the way to Willie's van. "Okay, I'm okay," she assured Julie, "I think I'd pass out or something if it were fatal, right?"

Julie considered Angie's eyes, her coordination. Slow bleeders didn't manifest dramatically, but as far as she could tell Angie's condition (aside from her headache) was moving in a positive direction. If things were going to get ugly, they'd be ugly already. "Something like that. You still feel nauseous?"

She leaned against the side of the van. "Yeah. Tyler was right, I got a world-class hangover and no party to blame it on."

"We'll catch up," Maggie promised from the interior of Sancho's vehicle.

Willie noted Angie's condition with some concern. He'd kept his worries to himself throughout the day, believing that expressing them might convince others in the camp that his doubts were perhaps hopes for failure; he knew too well that many of those he considered comrades still regarded him with suspicion.

"Angie, you are okay?"

She nodded as Julie gave her a boost up on the step into the van. "Yeah Willie, banged my head is all."

"Y'mean _Tyler_ banged your head," Elias cracked, not expecting Willie would take it seriously. But he did, and everyone was stunned to see the transformation in their friend's demeanor.

"What did you do to her?" Willie demanded, advancing on Tyler. His blue eyes had morphed to dark, irises narrowed and vertical. A forked tongue could be glimpsed in his partly-open mouth.

For the first time Tyler fully understood Willie's commitment to humans, some probably more than others. He stopped in his tracks, defensive instincts strangely subdued, saying only, "It was an accident, Willie."

Julie stepped between them and laid a hand on Willie's arm. "He's right, the pilot did an escape maneuver and he banged into her. He'd never hurt her, Willie." The last was added in a low, intense murmur. "_Never._"

Willie stepped back. "Oh." Then, to Tyler, "I am sorry, I disunderstood."

Tyler nodded and muttered, "No problem." He'd longago become resigned to the fact that whoever had heard of The Fixer would usually expect the worst of him. But having spent so much time with this cell, even a lizard should be able to tell... something inside of Tyler recoiled at the notion that it was so easy to believe that he'd beat on Angie. Okay, he'd earned an ugly reputation, fair enough. But for christsake… it's not like nobody knew they were together, and why would anyone… _ah fuck it. _

Tyler's inner rant was cut off as Angie spoke up, clearly pissed off by Willie's reaction.

"Don't you _ever_ think that again," Angie managed to admonish Willie sharply in spite of feeling like hell. Willie's chastened demeanor said it all (especially to Tyler).

"I stand directed," he apologized, taking Angie by the arm to help her into his vehicle. "I am sorry," he added, sotto voce, when they were close together. "Please, do not be angry." Angie sighed wearily.

"S'okay, Willie, I know you're just looking out for me. I just feel so _shitty_."

She plopped down onto the floor in the rear of the rather small van, finding space amidst a few cases of supplies that she figured had been picked up along the way. The pain in her head prevented anything more than a grunt of relief as she sat down again. Lying down was out of the question; even if there were room, Julie had advised that falling asleep was a bad idea for at least little while longer given the necessity to monitor any changes in her condition. And besides, it would make the headache even worse, as if _that_ were possible. Tyler dropped down beside Angie. Julie sat opposite and was finally joined by Donovan, who'd been listening to Sancho and Willie explain the roundabout route they'd be taking.

"I can't wait to _lie down_," Angie groaned.

By now Julie was completely satisfied that Angie had suffered nothing more serious than a slight concussion. "When we get back I'll get you some ice packs, that should help a lot."

"How soon?"

Donovan had settled against the opposite wall. "Not for awhile, looks like. We're gonna be taking some back roads, kind of the scenic route. Couple hours, maybe."

It was just after noon, and the sun was beating down on the (non-air conditioned) vehicle. Donovan reached into one of the cases and handed out some canteens. "We got plenty of water," he tried to sound upbeat.

"And no time to pee," Angie griped.

"Don't worry, you're gonna sweat it out," Tyler observed.

After that there wasn't much to say. The rear of the van was windowless and the four them slumped where they sat, Angie's head propped back against a rolled-up towel. The "scenic route" was comprised of winding and often unpaved roads and the bouncing and bumping shot bolts of pain through Angie's temples. Seated close by her, Tyler could feel the tension in her. She didn't want to lean against him again, he could tell. She'd finally busted out of the computer room and she'd be damned if she was going to whine about a "bump on the head", not even a concussion, not matter how much it hurt. Tyler smiled ruefully to himself; she'd rather die than have the others think she was a wimp. The way she tore across that parking lot, head low and hell bent on getting that module, he figured "wimp" was the _last_ word anyone was thinking of. Crazy, definitely. But try and tell her that. After an undetermined period of time, Tyler could hear the faintest echo of a whimper that Angie almost (but not quite) succeeded in swallowing. Gooder and Parrish didn't hear, but he did. Or did he just feel it? He said nothing but reached down in the small space between him and Angie, finding the clenched fist he knew had to be matched by one on her other side. He wrapped his hand around and worked his thumb inside, pressing it into her palm. He pressed a little harder, flexing her wrist back a little, then relaxed his grip. Then he pressed again, flexed, and relaxed. He continued the alternating pressure and release in time with his own respiration.

_Focus. Breathe._

He didn't have to say the words, and the only response he got was the sensation of her breathing as it slowed and steadied. He leaned his head to the side, just a fraction.

"Okay?"

Angie didn't answer, just nodded the tiniest bit and gripped Tyler's thumb, for just a second, as if she were afraid he'd let her go, but he didn't.

_I'm such a fucking wimp, hanging on like some 5 year old afraid of getting lost at the mall. _Unobtrusively Angie tried to disengage her hand. Tyler stopped the press/flex/relax, but strengthened his grip and pulled closer against his side where she could feel his even breathing. She couldn't pull away without a struggle, and didn't want to draw Julie and Mike's attention. Almost against her will she returned to her previous focus, _breathe in, breath out._

The light through the windshield barely reached into the cargo area, but Julie couldn't keep from studying Tyler and Angie as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. Whatever personal world they'd built for themselves, she knew for a fact it didn't exist between them the first night they and Chris Farber arrived in L.A. Maybe it came about of its own accord. Either way, it was plain that outsiders were not invited. The knowledge raised a twinge of envy. She'd felt a connection developing with Mike in the time they'd spent together, and they'd acted on it more than once. It didn't feel as insulated from the world as the one she was witnessing across the cramped space the four of them were sharing. When this war was over, if they survived it, Julie wasn't at all sure if she and Mike would have a future together; she wasn't even sure she wanted one. She sensed they were bound together only by their mutual difficulties, and their commitment to the Resistance. Tyler and Angie were bound together by something deeper, like Maggie and Mark had been. It might have started during the war, but that was only coincidence. They would have come together wherever they'd met, and stayed that way. No questions, no wondering. Julie had no way of knowing that Tyler would laugh her into next week if she'd expressed that last thought aloud.

_Goddamnit, the crazy woman is wondering again… this time it's whether she's tough enough. _Tyler waited to see if Angie would try to take back her hand again, and macho it out on her own. She didn't. He knew, though, that it was only to avoid sharing their little hidden wrestling match with Gooder and Parrish. _What was it Mai Linh had told him when they were first together and he was still more a hardass shit than a man… 'you lie about what you want so you don't have to admit what you need'… something like that. Life in a war zone honed her needs to the bare essentials; when she said she was okay you could take it to the bank, no posing. Angie, on the other hand… macho to the bone for as long as she could hold it together, and it takes a lot of pressure to crack it even when we're alone. _He didn't bother, not usually, unless he could see the cracks already forming from the inside, like now. _First raid, first kill, first time almost getting herself and her buddies killed, and she's trying to pretend it's no big deal. _He didn't expect her to come all unraveled, and he didn't wish it on her, but he knew it would come and he knew what she'd need even though she'd rather die than admit it. She'd never tell him, she'd only take it when he offered, and god knows he'd gotten to know when it was time for "c'mere". Now wasn't the time. They were sitting close enough together that he could feel she'd relaxed a little and was breathing evenly again, so he gave back her hand. He could also sense she was slumping back a little, and called quietly to Julie, "Hey doc, it okay if she dozes off?"

The subtle inquiry startled Julie from her musings. "I think so. Anything dangerous would have shown up by now."

Tyler nodded and retreated again into silence.

_Good, I can stop acting like some pussy,_ Angie thought as Tyler released her hand. _Not here, not now, but god I need… _ she could admit it in her head, in private. _I need to roll up and get lost, I need to feel nothing but your hands on me, to hear nothing but your heartbeat and breathing, I need to smell gun oil and leather, not fear and sweat and death. You know, and you know I won't ask for it, but it doesn't matter._ When they got back, when the meeting was scheduled for next day and she dragged back to their room, she knew she'd crawl into his arms and let him take over. She didn't need to cry, or rage, or even talk. She needed still and solid and quiet, and when they got back she'd let him invite her, and she'd accept. Nothing she'd experienced today made sense when Angie tried to put it all together, and at long last she couldn't care less if it ever did. She just wanted the refuge of being held and soothed and surrounded by that dark quiet voice as if it weren't her idea at all but was being forced upon her. _It's barely mid afternoon and I'm so fucking __tired__._ Unlike her companions, Angie was unaccustomed to the running and shooting, the adrenalin rush of the raids and near-escapes. None of this occurred to her, of course. _I'm such a fucking wimp,_ she berated herself again as she sank into a light sleep.

* * *

Robert was examining the extra data module, but the back of Sancho's van was no brighter (or cooler, or more comfortable) than Willie's. Naturally he knew that the only way to learn anything from them was to hook them up to the computer back at the compound, but he couldn't help trying to unlock their secrets by osmosis like anyone else might.

Realizing he was being foolish, he gestured with the small unit and asked Maggie, "Did Angie tell you about this?"

Maggie shook her head. "Nope, not a word, not about what she planned or even that it existed," she answered from where she sat slouched next to Elias. She was trying to favor her still-tingling hip by sitting a little off-balance, which wasn't easy considering the rough roads they were traveling. More than once she wound up falling across Elias' lap.

"You keep doing that, I'm gonna have to propose," he cracked as they hit another bump, and she fell on him again.

"You could do worse," his father drawled, "but I'm not sure Maggie could."

"I'd feel a lot better if we knew what happened to Peterson," Robert continued, "It won't take long for the Visitors to identify Angie as a member of the Resistance, and Peterson's connection to her could be a real problem. Not to mention that Todd, who knows what he was able to find out about her."

"_I_ know," Maggie responded sharply, "and he didn't find out anything at all that she didn't make up."

"I don't think he meant it that way, did you Robert?" Caleb asked pointedly. He didn't think he had, really, but given Robert's position as a key scientific member of their group a little extra paranoia would be natural.

Robert replaced the "extra" module in the box that held the biophysics one. "No, I didn't. I'm sorry if it sounded that way, but I can't help but wonder if this Todd had his own suspicions and did a little checking on his own, even if it was just enough to learn 'something was up'."

Even Maggie hadn't thought of this. "Good point… here I was thinking our little operation was one-way. But if he had managed to link Angie to the Resistance, wouldn't they have made a move by now?"

"Shit," Elias muttered, "nobody knows what _anybody_ is up to, that's the problem."

Here the conversation ended. They all knew that soon enough the Visitor version of the raid would be broadcast on the World Wide Visitor Network. Whatever the Visitors had or hadn't learned would be up there for everyone to see, and the traitors would crawl out of the woodwork sniffing for their chance to profit.


	7. Greatly exaggerated

The van jerked to a stop and Willie announced like a city bus driver, "End of the line. Everybody out."

Remarkably both vans had arrived at the compound within minutes of one another. Not so remarkably, as the routes had been determined in minute detail by Willie and Chris Farber.

Everyone stumbled out. Angie and Maggie homed in on one another as if by magic and shuffled together toward the main buildings slightly apart from the others.

A loud whoop caught everyone up short. As Maggie and Angie staggered from their respective vehicles, Chris Farber caught them up in a tandem bear hug, surprising them both. Angie's head almost exploded.

"Jesus, Bear, what's your problem?" she asked, struggling free of him. He released Maggie as well.

"Holy shit and praise the lord!" he bellowed. "Lizard bullshit network said you were both dead!"

"Rumors of our death are greatly exaggerated," Maggie deadpanned, then rubbed her hip which had started up again. "But a little worse for the wear."

As they trudged toward the main building Chris explained, "There was one of those 'special bulletins' on the tube an hour ago, announcing a 'failed raid on the newly repurposed Visitor Youth Center', and you two had your faces plastered all over the screen labeled 'terrorists killed during the cowardly attack' while all you other _cowards_," he laughed and indicated the rest of the raiding party, "managed to escape, but will 'soon be tracked down like vermin' or some such bullshit. Lemme tell you, they are _truly_ pissed off that one of their supposed human converts was a rebel!" Carried away, he gave Angie a congratulatory nudge as they entered the mess hall/meeting room. She'd have fallen on her face if Farber hadn't just as quickly grabbed her arm.

"Shit, we got away from the lizards, try not to kill us with kindness," Maggie chided the big man.

Once inside Julie announced to the sizable group of waiting rebels, "I think the raiding party should get together in the morning to do our debrief among ourselves, and then we'll do a camp-wide session to let everyone know where we stand and what might come next. Some things need a little more explanation than others," she gestured toward Robert, who held both the data modules, and nodded toward Donovan and Tyler. "Obviously we did not bring back David Peterson." She turned to Chris. "Has there been any more news besides that first announcement?" A couple of tv's were set up in the compound, one in the main building in the tech center and another what had been the "rec room" of the barracks building.

"They said there'd be an update later, around 7."

Tyler looked at his watch. "About half an hour. I guess they need time to coordinate their bullshit and fake their footage," here he offered the wolfish grin. "Gonna have to send out for that, though."

That sent a laugh rippling through those assembled, the raiding party included, and most of those gathered went about what remained of their daily camp business.

"You can say that again," Elias told them, "we planted enough C4 to put them into 'technical difficulties' for a long time. You could say that 'failed raid' stuff is wishful thinking."

"Delusional," Caleb added.

"Science fiction," Angie concluded, flexing her neck. The headache was coming back... too much jostling, she figured. "Man, this is _all_ science fucking fiction to me." She looked at everyone and then asked Julie, "So can I go drop my cover for good?" She indicated her work uniform.

"Go right ahead, you've earned the privilege," Julie smiled, then looked a little more serious. "But I'd be happier if you'd let me give you a couple of hours lying on an ice pack."

"Uh-uh," Angie declined. "I just wanna crash on my own bed for awhile."

"Be back for the update at 7," Donovan reminded her, and Maggie as well. "We need to see what they're up to with you guys."

"Shit, no rest for the _dead_," Maggie bitched as they all headed for the barracks.

* * *

"So?" Tyler ran a light hand down the back of Angie's head as they approached their quarters.

"Still kinda thumping, but not like before."

"You sure you don't want to take Parrish up on the ice pack offer?"

Angie (carefully) shook her head. "No way. Because the ice pack comes attached to a cot in the infirmary, and I don't wanna be watched and poked at for hours." This was accompanied by a meaningful glare. Tyler responded by raising both hands with a wide-eyed "Hey, not me!" expression.

Almost before the door closed behind them Tyler peeled out of the hated Visitor uniform, replacing it with sweatpants and nothing else. This done he went to where Angie was standing by the window (always by that window, when things inside of her were tangled).

"How you doin'," he said in his quietest voice. No question mark.

"Fine." But she didn't look at him when she said it.

_Nice try, Angel._ "Look, you lost your virginity today. A raid, a kill, and almost getting blown away. I still remember my first time, so don't bullshit me with 'fine'."

How could she explain it? She wasn't bullshitting, she just felt… nothing. Everything he said was true, it was a day of big fat firsts and she knew she _should_ be feeling some jolt. But it just wasn't there.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked honestly, and turned to face him. "I wish I could manufacture some trauma but I don't _feel_ any." His eyes narrowed, the usual way they did when he was trying to read her beyond the words so she added, "Gimme a break, Ham. you know I can't lie to you worth shit." She sighed lightly. "Yeah, I killed Daniel. And I know he deserved it, even if I don't know if I'm qualified to judge. But believe me when I tell you, I didn't feel great, or guilty, or anything… just _nothing._" That bothered her more than anything, and she turned to look out the window again. "I _should_ feel something, shouldn't I? About all of it. I wish I could, but I don't. Can you believe it, I'm not even _wondering_ about anything."

"First time for everything."

She was shaking her head. "Honestly, all I feel is tired. I'm _so_ _tired_, and I hardly did anything. I'm used to sitting on my butt, not running and shooting. You guys do so much more and here I am whining."

"It's just the adrenaline burnoff. You're new to that, too." Tyler grasped Angie's shoulders and turned her to face him. "Look, you did good today, butterfingers and all. Why don't you slip into something less lizard, and we'll go back and run a raid on the kitchen."

Angie pulled away, still not ready to admit she needed anything but a good night's sleep. "I'm not hungry, but why don't you go feed your face and swap stories with the others," she suggested.

He could have eaten a horse (and was willing to chase it down first), but since she put it that way… for now he'd had enough of "the others".

"Thanks for killing my appetite." He stepped up and reached for her again, but only managed to hold on for a second or two before she pulled away. She could read his motivation like a comic book.

"Tyler I told you I'm _okay_," she insisted as she disentangled herself.

He stood still, arms folded, as Angie pulled on her some clothes after dropping her "work clothes" in the trash. Tyler thought the lizard-wear might be better saved for future needs, but he knew now wasn't the time to mention it.

"Yeah, yeah, you're okay," he told her, "But _I've_ been handling cold hardware all day," He reached out and ran a couple of fingers along her cheek, "I wouldn't mind trading up for something a little softer."

She figured that was the honest truth, so Angie tried to find something inside that would speak to it, and came up empty. "I think I'm fresh outta that. All I feel right now is cold and hard and hollow."

"Been there, too. It'll pass." When she looked him in the eye at last he could see she hadn't been bluffing, she didn't look sad or confused. Just very solemn and somehow prepared, as if she were waiting for something to hit her hard. And so tired… he could hardly believe she was still standing.

"It's okay, Angel, nothing has to make sense now, trust me on that. It'll all settle down in its own time."

Angie sighed, took a step closer, and pressed her face into his shoulder. She loved his skin, warm and smooth and unmarked, loved the way she could feel the muscle move underneath, and reached around his waist to feel him breathe. To feel that, and the steady sound of his heartbeat, would help things to settle down sooner. And to lose herself in gun oil and leather... it was part of him, as much as his dark voice and many different subtle smiles, and his chocolate eyes. If they stood like this, very quietly, and didn't move or speak, maybe everything else would just fade off a little.

Tyler hadn't been kidding about wanting something softer, something that didn't invite his hands to clench until his knuckles turned white. At the moment he was satisfied to work the braid out of Angie's hair with one hand, poking his fingers between the loosened plaits and bunching it in his fist when he was finished, so he could lower his face into it. "Nice." With his other hand he massaged soothing circles at the base of her neck, rewarded by feeling her loosen under his fingertips. Finally he wrapped his arms around her and held them together, quiet and steady. There was no knowing how long they stood there like that until...

"Guys you gotta see this!"

A bang on the door, that wasn't quite latched, knocked it open. Revealing Donovan, wearing a very excited expression.

"_Jesus, Gooder!_ You raised by hyenas?" Tyler barked as Angie leaped several inches in his embrace.

Mike had been driven by the news that the others had just seen from the Visitors Network, and he drew up short when faced with his intrusion. "Sorry, but this is really important."

"Yeah, yeah," Angie raised her head scowled. "_Everything's_ important since we came to this freak show. So, what now?"

"The lizards are telling the world how you died, and why. But it doesn't make sense, you gotta see it."

"I don't _wanna_ see anything right now. My head feels like shit and I'm ready to pass out. Can it beat that?"

"In spades," Donovan assured her.

"If you're wrong you know I can blast you flat." She sighed and broke free from Tyler.

"If I'm wrong, I'll provide the blaster," Donovan promised as he took off to return to the barracks community room that featured a television linked in to the Visitor Network (but "mysteriously" removed from their network surveillance) .

"You up to this?" Tyler inquired, well aware of Angie's diminished reserves.

Angie stared into the chocolate eyes. "I'm up to anything, haven't you figured that out yet?"

"Even if 'anything' is some lame ass phony Lizard Network bullshit fest?"

"Yeah, whatever. If I finally got famous I wanna see it. Especially since I'm dead." Then she looked him up and down and laughed. "Better get some clothes on, you don't want anyone looking for an invitation."

"Anyone" meaning Ruthie, plus a couple other newcomers who seemed to consider Tyler's hard-edged mystery more alluring than intimidating.

"Thanks for reminding me," Tyler smirked, "I'll bring my bimbo repellent." It wasn't about monogamy, and he knew Angie knew it. He found so many women to be annoying, or just plain uninteresting, that "fidelity" was moot. He dressed quickly and took another look at Angie where she sat on the end of the bed. Her eyes were bloodshot and shadowed.

"Sweetheart, you look like shit. Why don't you get some naptime, I'll fill you in later." The endearment went unnoticed by both of them, effectively canceled out by the observation. Angie managed a sneer.

"Said Cary Grant... not." She dragged herself to her feet and managed to pump up the few drops of the adrenaline she had left. "Hey, what the hell. We'll catch some tube, grab a pizza," she joked lamely, "find out who killed me and Maggie. Just another fun filled day with the Resistance."


	8. Unreality TV

Years ago the large room in the barracks building was designated for R&R. That was when the Coast Guard's duty was predictable in function, if not in schedule. The Guard who lived in the barracks, rotating in various weekly or monthly shifts, spent much of their time in training or waiting for a call to action. Not so unlike the people who lived there now, except the now the stakes were higher and the action affected a much wider population. The ping-pong and card tables remained, as did the community television. The latter, however, now served a very different purpose. Once used for entertainment and diversion, for the rebels the TV was good only for information. Sure, "entertainment" programming still was broadcast on the typical 24/7 schedule, but the source and intent was well known to the viewers. Nowadays marketing was more than the commercial sort, and the lies sold cost lives instead of dollars.

The raiding party filtered in and sat wherever there was space. The raid, and its consequences, concerned everyone. Even those who considered themselves mere refugees, under protection of the Resistance and not its active members, had gathered to see what fiction the Visitors might make of the reality of the successful raid.

Donovan, Robert, and Julie were settled on the small ratty sofa closest to the TV. Angie was headed to join Maggie and Willie, but Tyler grabbed the back of her t-shirt and yanked her down onto the one empty seat next to him. She turned to him in protest, but was silenced when she saw the two newcomers, Maureen and Suzanne, and of course Ruthie, approaching as if to sit in the place where she'd been planted. The trio cruised by as if nothing of the sort had been on their minds.

The image widely known among the rebels as "Dipshit" was displayed on the TV screen. A blond, vacant, smiling face sporting the Visitor visor, it represented the image that served as a "test pattern" when the Visitor Network had nothing to broadcast.

"Dipshit's been there for an hour now," Chris informed everyone, and nodded in the general direction of the raid participants. "You guys did a good job. Whatever bullshit they come up with will be to cover their sorry asses."

As the echo of Chris's words died the "Dipshit" was replaced by the images of Maggie and Angie, taken from their respective i.d. badges. The community room exploded in hoots, whistles, and applause.

"Today, as the Visitors were poised to open their newest gift to the youth of Los Angeles, the terrorists rebels attempted to destroy the Youth Center and prevent its opening. These two women, Maggie Blodgett and Angela Harper, one of them a trusted employee of our new Youth Facility, helped lead the cowardly attack, and were killed as they attempted to escape. Visitor authorities are cooperating with city law enforcement to track down the handful of rebels who abandoned their comrades to their fate."

"Pretty good," Maggie noted, "we managed to be cowards and victims all at once!"

Now the human female announcer appeared onscreen. "While the main focus of the attack was thwarted,"

"Bullshit! We hammered your ass!" Elias shouted, and was shushed by the others,

"...and serious damage averted, the terrorists succeeded in assassinating the new director of the Los Angeles Visitor Youth Program, Dr. David Peterson."

Now a professional headshot of Peterson filled the screen. "The assassins murdered Dr. Peterson as he waited to deliver the keynote address to the assembly. It is believed that the assassination was carried out by Blodgett and Harper just prior to their deaths." David Peterson's smiling face remained onscreen as some small discussion in the studio seemed to distract the announcer.

_That's him, that's the mask I knew, that's the face he showed me._ Angie felt herself clench from the inside out as if her body couldn't decide how to react. Her jaw worked open and shut, open and shut, she looked at the floor, the ceiling and back to the TV image. She barely felt Tyler's hand as he surreptitiously reached behind her and opened it against her back, thumb rubbing back and forth.

"I thought you said you couldn't find him," Robert Maxwell turned and glared at Donovan and Tyler. "There's no way Angie had time to get to him between the time we left her and when you came out of the building."

"Maggie was laying explosives with us, she never left," Caleb added. All eyes turned to the only two men whose whereabouts were unaccounted for during the raid.

Before more questions could be asked, David Peterson's picture was replaced once again by the studio set, where a young blond male in Visitor uniform now joined the announcer.

The announcer introduced, "We're privileged to have a hero with us. Todd, a key member of the Youth Program development team has agreed to share details of today's raid and the Visitors' successful defense of its new Youth Center."

_Oh my god, what the fuck is this?_ Angie couldn't begin to imagine. But there he was.

Prompted by the announcer, Todd spoke.

"I was closely acquainted with Angela Harper, and helped her to obtain her position working with our data systems. I confess that I believed that she was a friend, and dedicated to our mission to help Earth advance to a higher technological level. It was only today, when I visited her at her post where she monitored the biophysics division, that I realized she was a member of the Resistance. After declaring her intention to kill the Director, she stunned me with her hand weapon. I am ashamed to say I was unable to do nothing to prevent the assassination of the Director Dr. Peterson, and only came upon his body after he was murdered. Upon pursuing the perpetrators, I cornered them in a corridor near the rear exit of the building, and eliminated them. Unfortunately the remaining terrorists killed all of their pursuers and managed to escape."

"No bodies were found," the announcer commented, with deliberate caution. "You are sure it was Maggie Blodgett and Angela Harper?"

Todd held up two singed i.d badges. "There is no doubt. They were incinerated, and there are no remains."

"Thank you, Todd. All of Earth commends your efforts to protect the Visitors and defend their contributions to all of us."

Silence in the community room, for a moment at least.

"What the hell?" Caleb exploded. "Why did that punk cover your ass?" This was unquestionably directed at Angie, who was completely disoriented by the combined influence of the claims of her death, news of David's "murder", and Todd's apparent efforts to protect her and Maggie.

"I don't know…" Angie stammered.

"What about Peterson's 'murder'? Donovan, Tyler, anything to say?" Robert demanded.

"Okay." Tyler leaned forward, disconnecting from Angie. "I found Peterson where I was supposed to 'escort' him, right where he was waiting to lie through his teeth to everyone who bought the lizards' crap. Right where he was sleazing some little girl about how he was gonna educate her." Silence from the group. "I told him I was gonna take him somewhere else." No look toward Gooder, but by god he picked up the cue.

"I thought Tyler was taking too long, so I went after him. When I got there, Peterson was dead with a gun in his hand. Tyler was standing over him. Asshole drew on him."

Then Julie spoke up. _Thank god,_ Donovan thought to himself.

"But why would Todd concoct a lie about Maggie and Angie being dead?" She looked at Angie, obviously expecting a response.

"He came to ask if I wanted to see the speech. I said no thanks, and he left."

"You never said you wanted to kill Peterson?"

"His name never even came up. I swear," and she looked at everyone now, including Maggie and Tyler, "He never mentioned David." This was all so messed up!

"We had at least a dozen storm troopers tailing us all the way out," Donovan observed, "they _must_ have seen you two, Angie you faced them head on when you shot Daniel. And Maggie kept turning back to shoot. Why are they presenting this fairy tale?"

"He said we killed all of our pursuers," Angie murmured, "what if somebody _else_ did?" She locked eyes with Maggie. "When Todd came to the biophysics area I was in the middle of downloading the personnel module. I really didn't think I did such a slick job of covering up the console, but he never batted an eye or seemed to notice."

"Angie, you have to remember _exactly_ what he said to you," Julie urged her. "Anything at all could give us an idea of what's going on."

She shifted uncomfortably, "It was personal."

'What, you planning another hookup with your lizard fuck-buddy?" Ruthie sneered, startling everyone. Angie could feel Tyler's fist clench behind her.

_Okay, I've had just about enough of you, skank. _"Hey bitch," Angie snapped back, "didja know your new name is 'Applause'? Because _clap_ _clap clap _follows you everywhere you go!"

Things were getting out of hand. Julie shut off the TV and stood in front of it. "_Enough!_ Angie I'm going to ask you again, what did you and Todd talk about? There's no such thing as 'personal' anymore, you and Maggie know that better than anyone here."

"Okay," Angie sucked a breath and regained control. "Like I said he asked if I wanted to see the speech and I said no. Then he said he wanted to explain about ending our 'arrangement', that he'd believed what Daniel had told him about human relationships being all about sex, and when he found out that wasn't true he didn't see the need to keep, well, doing it with me. He was a little strange, almost like he was apologizing for believing the crap Daniel told him. He called it a 'shallow perspective'. He said he was beginning to really study human sociology."

"Oh great," Elias muttered, "the better to wipe us out from within."

"I don't think so. I asked him why bother, when they're already in charge, why be interested in who we are? And he said that someday he thinks they'll be sharing the earth instead of conquering it, and it's important to understand the species they'll be sharing it with." She also remembered his answer to her spontaneous question, but kept that to herself. _You're wrong, Julie, there are still some things that are 'personal'._

"You're saying you think he might be Fifth Column?" Maggie asked, thinking about it for a moment before going on, "I gotta say, guys, he seemed a little 'different' from Daniel's other buddies even to me. I could never put my finger on it… less single-minded regarding humans and Earth. I mean he did his job and never let on any differences with their leaders, but," suddenly she locked on Angie again, "you remember, when he gave you that visor, after…" she trailed off when she looked at Tyler. "Little things, stuff you don't think about."

Caleb was shaking his head. "No offense Maggie, but maybe Daniel was such a world-class asshole this guy came out better by comparison."

"Martin definitely would have mentioned if he had anyone in there who was spending time with one of us," Donovan confirmed.

"'_Spending time',_ what a nice way to put it." Ruthie again. She stood and shouted down a number of angry glares. "Well come on! Her lizard boyfriend is covering her ass? What for, do you think? Maybe she's promised him a bigger prize?"

Angie was up on her feet now as well, toe to toe with Ruthie. Tyler was wise enough to stay out of it.

"Hey genius," Angie challenged, "if that were true we'd be dead already. In fact you'd have been _first_."

Outdone by the simplest of logic, Ruthie covered by smiling poisonously. "Okay, maybe I _am_ wrong. Maybe you're just a better lay than I thought. How about it guys?" she addressed Tyler and Chris, "she as good as all that?"

Tyler began to rise but Chris moved first, advancing on Ruthie as Julie gestured uselessly for them to calm down.

"You're lucky I don't beat on women."

"Oh, you're such a _gentleman_," Ruthie mocked with a wave of her hand.

"Yeah, well _I'm_ not," and with that Angie cold-cocked Ruthie, knocking her flat on her ass.

"_Crazy bitch!_" Ruthie protested, blood pouring from between her fingers, "you broke my nose!"

Julie pulled the raging woman to her feet. "You'll live. I'll get you some ice and towels. And if a punch in the face didn't smarten you up," she looked to Robert and Donovan, "you're on notice… any more trouble, of _any _kind, and you're out."

Ruthie's eyes widened above the hand she held clamped over her nose. _"Out?"_

"We can't afford troublemakers here, and you've had more than enough chances," Donovan told her, as Robert nodded in agreement. "Julie's right, one more strike and you're out."

"Good thing too," Angie called after Ruthie as she followed Julie to the infirmary, "we're running low on penicillin!"

If she'd looked behind her, Angie would have seen the smile tugging at Tyler's mouth. As it was, she looked around her at the expressions that ranged from confused to horrified to suspicious, and found herself overwhelmed.

"I don't feel so good," she muttered and took off out the door, Maggie in hot pursuit.

"I think we all need a good night's sleep," Julie told the rest of them. "Nobody's thinking straight right now. Robert, how about all of us in the raiding party get together tomorrow, 10am, and see if we can't make sense of this story the Visitors are spinning. Mike, see if you can get in touch with Martin and find out if he knows about any 'freelancers'. Unaligned Visitors who aren't exactly dedicated to conquering Earth."

"I'll see what I can find out."

Everyone headed off in the general direction of the mess hall to revive themselves with coffee and whatever food wouldn't require too much preparation. Chris caught up with Tyler as he left the building.

"Think she's okay?" he asked, and the dark laugh Tyler had been holding back escaped him.

"Oh, I'd say so, or maybe you should ask that whore she punched out."

Farber pulled his friend to a stop. "No, man, I mean, you know, the rest of it. That stuff on TV she saw must be giving her a real ride right now."

The smile left Tyler's face, and he looked in the direction that Maggie had taken when she followed Angie.

"Yeah, but it's a good idea to leave it be for now," he mused. "Those two take pretty good care of each other. Anyway she'll let me know what she wants to when she's ready." He slapped Chris on the shoulder. "C'mon, if I don't eat something I'm gonna pass out and ruin my reputation."

* * *

Maggie handed Angie a bottle of water and an energy bar.

"Here," she told Angie having dragged her to her own quarters, "before you do or say anything else, drink this and for christsake eat something."

Angie drank and ate, even though she was convinced she'd puke it right up again. The headache had returned with a vengeance and was making her nauseous as well. Much to her surprise, though, once she had consumed what Maggie had shoved into her hands the pain faded. Maggie read her look of astonishment.

"Dehydrated and a blood sugar crash from not eating… think that'll make you sick much? Duh?" Then she looked over her shoulder in the direction of the community room, and laughed. "I'd shake your hand for decking that bitch, but I think it probably needs a rest."

"Well shit," Angie flexed the hand in question and winced, "it's not like she hasn't been asking for it." Maggie laughed harder.

"I don't think that's quite what she _thought_ she was asking for!"

When the laughter faded, she and Angie sat just staring at one another. Neither one of them could imagine what had motivated Todd to present that fiction about their "death". And they didn't believe Donovan and Tyler's story for a minute, either.

"David 'drew on him', my ass," Angie said finally. "I _told_ him I wanted David dead, and the last thing Tyler told me this morning was to forget about it, it wouldn't fix anything and going 'freestyle' would fuck everything up and get people killed."

"No big surprise, though… it's not as if he didn't know how that asshole played you. But him and Mike in cahoots? Now _that's_ a shock!"

A wave of exhaustion overtook Angie, no doubt triggered by the burnout of the adrenalin burst that had manifested in her clocking Ruthie. "None of this makes sense, if Donovan's friend Martin didn't mention Todd he couldn't have been Fifth Column, but nothing he said today could really help the Visitors. I mean, if he had anything on me like I said we'd all be done by now. I just don't get it." She dropped the water bottle as her friend grabbed her wrist.

"Wait a minute… maybe not like Martin. Maybe Todd's more like Willie!"

"Willie?"

"Yeah, Willie." Maggie got up and began to pace around the small room, thinking aloud, "Like Willie, a functionary, just wore the uniform and did the job, but maybe he's decided he doesn't like what's happening. Willie was more interested in learning about humans than enslaving them too, remember? He did his job until he really saw the damage being done, and then he couldn't do it anymore. Maybe if he hadn't met Caleb and the others he'd have done the same thing as Todd, using whatever contacts he could get to find out about us."

"You saying maybe Todd's a free agent? Not a supporter of the Visitor cause, but not hooked into any rebellion?"

Maggie stopped and stared down at Angie. "And maybe you're his Elmer Fudd."

Angie's eyes widened. "You mean…" she stood and faced her friend, "he figured out who I was and saw a chance to help, all on his own?"

"Could be. But we'll probably never know. For now I guess don't look a gift lizard in the mouth, you think?"

"I don't _know_ what to think." Angie gestured helplessly. "Seeing David's picture… then Todd covering for us… sitting next to Tyler… I'm such a mess, I can't sort any of it out. All I know is I'm ready to drop."

Maggie draped an arm around Angie's shoulders and walked her to the door. "Then drop. Food and water helped; maybe sleep will help even more. You're not used to this,"

"I know, I know, I'm not used to running and fighting and shooting and almost getting killed, and having my head jerked around six ways from Sunday, and…" she trailed off. "Okay, I'm gonna go fall on my face now."

"Good move. Let's see what the others think of the Elmer Fudd theory when we meet tomorrow. And hey," she grabbed Angie by the shoulders, "Don't try to make sense of all the other stuff right now, it'll sort itself out in a while."

"That's what Tyler said." She hugged Maggie tightly, and sighed. "Great minds, and all that."

"Only to a point," Maggie advised her. "Blowing things up could never be more than a hobby for me, too hard on the ears."

After taking a shower (that felt almost as good as the best sex she'd ever had) Angie dragged herself to her room and fell on the bed but for some reason she couldn't close her eyes. Things kept turning in her head. What Maggie had said about Todd maybe being like Willie, what she saw him say on TV, realizing David was truly dead and seeing his face again as she learned it… everything sort of drifted just out of reach, close enough to nag at her but too far to wrestle into place. Maggie was right. Ham was right. Leave 'em alone for awhile. But they wouldn't leave _her_ alone. It wasn't fair. _How very grown up. All the big-league stuff you've done today boils down to an age-old whine._ She rolled onto her side so she was facing the window where the sun had just set. The moon was just a sliver but the water always seemed to amplify the light. She hugged the pillow… _gun oil and leather_… breathing deeply, she finally drifted off.

* * *

Everyone in the raiding party trudged back to their quarters after chowing down on whatever they could reach. Even the three pots of coffee consumed wouldn't keep anyone awake for long.

As he rounded the corner and headed toward his door Tyler crossed paths with Willie. Willie kept himself quartered in the central building of the complex, near the animal and computer labs. Part of it, Tyler knew, was because of the natural distrust so many of the rebels had been unable to overcome. He still had a hard time himself now and then. But a lot of it had to do with Willie's involvement in the various experiments both on the animals and in the computer area. That lizard worked three times as hard as most of the humans, Tyler had to admit. Still, it was odd for Willie to be in the barracks area at night.

"Mr. Tyler," Willie greeted him. Tyler hated being called "Mr. Tyler". It made him feel like a fucking schoolteacher.

"I told you Willie, you don't have to call me that."

Willie hesitated. Despite his awareness of this stern mercenary's growing acceptance, Willie remained intimidated. He couldn't overcome the notion that his own friendship with Angie somehow violated an unspoken rule of human relationships, and Mr. Tyler was not someone he wanted to upset even inadvertently.

"Mr. Ham," Willie finally attempted.

Tyler sighed and rolled his eyes. _Hopeless, _he acknowledged silently. "What can I do for you, Willie."

"I have something for Angie. Would you give it to her please?"

Tyler peered at the small baggie that Willie handed to him. It contained… four Oreos. "Cookies? Sure, I'll pass 'em on."

"I am aware of her 'jonesing for Oreos'," Willie explained. "They are not easy to find. Elias found these for me."

"He _would_ be the source, wouldn't he?"

As crazy as it seemed, this whole thing was puzzling to Tyler. At that moment he realized he had no idea of Angie's preferences for small luxuries or guilty pleasures. Everyone else around here seemed to yap nonstop about what they missed and the first thing they'd grab for when the dust settled. The only things Angie ever mentioned were the more general things: peace and quiet, maybe two days off in a row. And those were basically complaints, not wishes.

'_Jonesing for Oreos'? Never knew she had a jones for anything besides sleep._

Seeing the change in Tyler's expression Willie added hastily, "I can wait until later." The lack of an immediate response convinced Willie he'd made a grave error in judgment.

"Ever mind," he told Tyler, though he didn't have the nerve to take the baggie from the other's hand, "I am sorry to disturb you." He retreated a step or two, but Tyler's grip on his shoulder stopped him from leaving. If Willie were human, his life would have flashed before his eyes. The fear Tyler saw in Willie's face caught him off guard, so he let him go.

"_Jesus_, Willie take it easy. I'm not the enemy."

Willie regarded Tyler with open curiosity. "Am _I_ not the enemy?"

"The enemy doesn't usually come bearing Oreos." Tyler gestured with the baggie. "Just took me by surprise is all. I didn't know she even liked the stuff."

"Oh. She has mentioned it to me on several occasions when we worked very late. 'I would kill for an Oreo right now', she has told me." He found Tyler's surprise puzzling. Though he wasn't fluent in his knowledge of human pairings, Willie believed it was typical for partners to share such personal details. Especially ones that involved 'jonesing', a concept he still didn't quite grasp though he could recognize its intensity by the way Angie's voice rose when she said the word.

Still a little distracted (_by Oreos? Shit I'm crazier than she is) _Tyler held up the baggie again and gave Willie's shoulder a manly shake. "Looks like you just saved four lives, then. I'll see she gets 'em."

"Uhm, very well," Willie cast about again for what to call him, and decided not to try. "Thank you. Good night." This time as he was walking away it was Tyler's voice that stopped him.

"Hey Willie?"

He turned. "Yes?"

"You're not the enemy. Anybody here tells you different just gimme their names and I'll straighten 'em out."

While grateful for the reassurance, the offer frankly made Willie a little nervous. "Thank you. I will… sweep in it."

_Sweep in it?_ _Oh, right._ He managed not to laugh. "Right, you sleep on it. See you at the meeting."

* * *

The overhead light was on in their quarters, but Angie was flat on her back and out cold, quelle surprise. Tyler was about to drop the baggie of Oreos on the table, but changed his mind and sat carefully on the bed. He'd seen her asleep more times than he could count, and she always wore a vaguely worried expression. Maybe "wondering" was a better word, yeah that was it. She was working things over in her head even when she was asleep, even when there were no nightmares. This time, though, she looked different. That tiny, almost invisible vertical line that seemed to live between her eyebrows was gone, and her mouth was almost turned in a smile. Wondering about better things, maybe. He bent and lightly kissed the edge of the bandage on her temple.

_No, not yet, I don't wanna…_ but it was no use. Something light and gentle had touched her, and dissolved the fragile wall between her sleeping and waking worlds. Sometimes she was frantic to escape from the one to the other, but this dream was different. Then his scent reached her, gun oil and leather stronger than before because it was him and not his echo on the pillow. When Angie opened her eyes there he was, looking down at her with that quietest, most subtle of all his many smiles.

As Tyler watched her wake he saw the almost-smile disappear from her face, the smoothness of her forehead invaded once more by the tiny vertical line, and he was taken aback to see her suddenly holding back from the edge of tears.

"What's going on?" he asked as he touched her face with his one empty hand. His fingertip just missed tear that peeked out the corner of her eye.

Angie sat up and leaned forward over her drawn-up knees. "Nuthin. Just a nap, like you suggested." Tyler leaned too, keeping his face in front of hers.

"Bullshit. I mean right now. You went from Sleeping Beauty to Little Orphan Annie in five seconds flat. If it was a nightmare you'd still be trying to punch my lights out." Waking her from a bad dream was always a calculated risk in terms of physical combat.

Mightily longing for the good old days of "no questions/no answers" Angie dropped her head to her knees then raised it again to look at him. "Not a nightmare," and she shook her head sadly, "it was such an _awesome_ dream, Tyler." She stared hard into his curious eyes, as if that would express whatever the words lacked, "we were… I dunno where. Somewhere, somewhere bright. Quiet, and bright. And Maggie, and Chris, and Willie, we were all there."

"What, no Ruthie?" Tyler smirked, but lightly, and added "how will you keep that right hook in shape without her?" He was rewarded by a familiar scowl.

"Ha, ha." The scowl evaporated again. "I don't remember anything much except we were there, and the war was over, no planning or meetings, no running or shooting or staring at computer files for clues. We didn't have to do _anything_ we didn't wanna do." Here her eyes widened as if that concept were too much to imagine.

"Works for me." Now the lost look on her face returned, going from there to something like bereavement. "So what's the problem?" he asked, honestly confused.

"I woke _up_." Angie shook her head tightly, trying to lose the images of the impossible that still clung there behind her eyes. "It's never gonna happen, I know that. So why did it have to seem so _real_?"

"_Hey._" Tyler reached his hand around behind Angie's neck, rubbing lightly and holding her still. "Never say 'never'. We're getting closer to wherever 'there' is. What you and Maggie had to do, what all of us have been beating ourselves into the ground for, we're closing in on it. Right now it's down to all that computer crap that I don't know shit about. And the Demolition Squad has to wait while the Geek Squad figures out the final moves. Now _that's_ gonna be ugly. But when we're done, no more running and shooting. And no more _meetings_. Nobody is gonna party harder than me and Farber when _that_ day comes. And then _we_," he leaned in for a kiss, "are not gonna have to do _anything_," another kiss, "we don't wanna do."

Angie hugged on tight for a minute, then sat back and nodded. "Right, you're right. I know." She sighed grumpily. "But I'm warning you, we're on big time Wondering Alert until further notice."

"Well after today, I guess you're entitled." He ran light fingers up and down her cheek. "So ready, aim, Wonder. I can take it."

Angie began, "Maggie and me had some ideas about what might be happening." And was silenced by Tyler's thumb pressed to her lips.

"Take the night off, will you? Save it for the meeting tomorrow so you don't have to repeat yourself." As if he'd just remembered, he raised the baggie. "Here, before I forget. Special delivery, from Willie." Tyler laughed as Angie's eyes widened with delight and she snatched the bag from him. "Christ, leave me some fingers! I use 'em sometimes."

"Oreos! Where did he _get_ them?" Angie tore the bag open and virtually inhaled one of them.

"Where do we get _everything_ that nobody has?" Tyler asked dryly.

"Oh, right." She inhaled another one.

"Willie seemed to think he was preventing a massacre…" Tyler observed sardonically as Angie gobbled up the remaining two Oreos. "Looks like he was right."

"Massacre?" Angie asked around a mouthful of cookies. She didn't know it, but Tyler was busting a gut trying to keep from laughing. She looked like a six-year old turned loose at a birthday party.

"Never mind. Look, I know you think I got a problem with Willie because the gene pool he swam out of. Okay, it's taken a while but even I can recognize the limits of genetics. So no worries, okay?"

_What brought this on?_ she wondered. "Okay." Overcome with a yawn, Angie stretched and brushed the remains of Oreos from her t-shirt. Tyler immediately leaped up and began swiping them off the bed.

"Shit, are you crazy?" he demanded. "I am _not_ gonna sleep in a bed full of cookie crumbs."

Angie didn't even try not to laugh, and was soon doubled over.

"What?"

"I'm just trying to picture the Fixer," Angie gasped, "slinking through the jungle with a knife in his teeth, sleeping in a ditch in the pouring rain… shaking the crumbs out of his sleeping bag."

Tyler advanced until he stood over her, and managed a respectable glower. "You have got a mess of Wondering to do, lady, before the meeting tomorrow. Maybe you'd better just sweep in it."

She stopped dead in mid-squeal and stared up, bewildered. "'Sweep in it'?"

"That's right." The faux-glower morphed into a gentle smile as he bent and kissed the top of her head. "Why don't you burrow in for the night, I'm gonna read for awhile. Pay another to visit to wherever-it-is, cancel all the meetings, and invite anybody you want. _Except_ Gooder. He's worse than ants at a picnic."

* * *

In the computer lab, Willie had been unable to resist having a first look at the modules that had been taken from the library. He gave the biophysics files only a cursory look; the sciences had never been his strong suit. He looked at the personnel module with more care. Since coming to Earth with the Invasion, Willie had come into contact with many humans. While most were brief acquaintances in the course of his low-level work, some others had become friends. There had been none as important to him as Harmony, of course, but a number of others he had become quite friendly with, and their paths had parted as often happens when very different species meet. Willie had first believed, like many others of his kind, that their arrival on Earth was simply to be a mission of exploration and a request for assistance for their home planet. And, like those others, he had become first dismayed and then disturbed to learn the real purpose was to invade and conquer. Willie supposed it had been very naïve of him not to ask more questions, even of himself. But the opportunity to take part in an exploration of an entirely new galaxy and species piqued his curiosity. He would never be a high-level scientific mind, but Willie was consumed with curiosity about other beings and how they might live. Since joining the Resistance and forming the friendships within it, he now found it profoundly disturbing to believe that some of the humans he may have known before were in fact involved in the betrayal of their own kind. It would make no difference now, he realized, but something compelled him to scan the many names to see if any one of them might be familiar.

After spending nearly an hour poring through the files – as he didn't need to translate them, could do so much more rapidly than the humans' analysis would progress – Willie decided that it was pointless to keep searching for familiar names. He'd read thousands of them already, and was so disheartened by the knowledge of how callously humans could betray one another that he had lost all interest in his original project. He keyed the code, common to all Visitor data files, that would instruct it to save and close. As he did so, Willie was surprised by an unexpected frame of text that popped up. He was _more_ than surprised to see the text was in human English. It read:

"Angie: We are not enemies. I want to help. Tell me how." A set of directions followed that indicated a meeting place alarmingly close to the rebel compound, on an isolated stretch of the shoreline some five miles north, and the message ended with "Tomorrow night after dark. It does not matter how late, I will be there. If you do not come by sunrise I will leave and will tell no one the truth." A red Visitor glyph replaced the text, and the window deleted itself before the file saved and closed. Willie's eyes widened as he read the glyph. It was far too late at night to go to Angie. Tomorrow, then, as soon as he was able to get her to a private place. Privacy was essential, he knew. Enough rebels still harbored enough doubts to make this message dangerous to them both.


	9. Never and always

Tyler was deeply absorbed in Dostoevsky's _Notes From the Underground_. He'd been reading by the low light from lamp by the window, slouched in the oversized and overstuffed armchair, admittedly somewhat ratty, that Elias had scored for him at some expense. Angie had changed into her bunny jammies and gone to sleep some time ago. Late November nights could be chilly even in L.A., especially considering her mania for open windows. When she spoke, low and quiet, it took him by surprise.

"I'm not pregnant."

"Huh?" He tried not to sound too surprised at the sound of another voice.

"I said, I'm not pregnant." Angie didn't know, exactly, why that came to mind as she'd lain awake for the past few minutes, but since it lingered in her head she figured she might as well tell him.

Tyler laid the book down and sat up a little to face her. "And you're telling me this…" he left the statement unfinished.

"Because I felt you seize up when I was puking my guts out on the transport. I just wanted you to know, it can't happen."

He remained seated, but a suspicion hardened him. "So that asshole father of yours,"

"_No_, not my dad. Nothing like that." Angie rolled to face Tyler where he sat. "It wasn't him, not directly anyway. You could say that when I took off from the excuse I had for 'home' I was, well, reckless in my pursuit of personal relationships." She paused, realized how foolish she sounded, and continued, "I slept around. I got a few little bugs, and ignored them for too long. I'm clean now, no question, but you could say they finished my procreative potential." PID, various other STD's, had burned up her reproductive system so completely that getting pregnant was pretty much out of the question. After a moment or two of Tyler's silence Angie asked, "Is that important to you?"

"Only if it's important to you."

"Not very much." In her life Angie had been attached to guys who knew exactly what to say. But Tyler was the first one who actually knew _why _and said it without agenda. "No, it's not. I like kids fine, but I don't think I could ever be the right person to raise one. Maybe lack of role models, or maybe just the way I am. And I've believed that since before I knew I couldn't have one."

He sensed it was time to change the subject. "So, jonesing for Oreos, huh?"

"I guess it just never came up. Lots of stuff doesn't, until it does, I guess."

"You are a _master_ of logic."

"Whatever," Angie mumbled and pulled the covers over her head again. Better to just hide and sleep until she could make sense again, whenever that might be. She heard the light click off, felt the bed shift under Tyler's weight.

"C'mere."

He was sitting with his back against the wall where a headboard would have been if Elias had _really_ scored. She turned back a little. "I'll be okay."

Tyler reached over and rubbed the top of Angie's head (the only part poking out of the covers) in acknowledgment. "I know. C'mere anyway."

He was inviting her, so she accepted. She crawled into his arms and let him take over, still and solid and quiet, his chin resting on her head and one thumb rubbing slow arcs between her shoulder blades. She lost herself in the sound of Tyler's heartbeat and the fragrance of gun oil and leather as he savored the softness and warmth that gave his hands a reason not to clench.

"Ten o'clock tomorrow," Angie said, finally, in a distant voice. When the business of war would start again. She could feel Tyler's chin moving against her head when he answered.

"Yup. But not here, not now. We're good."

* * *

He was mostly asleep, but felt something… fingers softly stroking his face, mouth working in slow kisses under his ear… Angie's weight against him shifted, one soft hand stroking his beard, another stroking him, clasping and stroking,

_oh jesus…_

_"Jeesuss,"_

his sleep-drugged mumble was stopped by her mouth and he opened to welcome her, his hands running up her back, skin hot from flannel,

_where's the flannel … jesus…_

"ssh," warmed his ear as he dropped his head back, eyes still closed, jaw locked to contain the groan that would surely carry at this hour, whenever it was…

_oh yeah, jesussss…_

god but he loved it this way, her on top and in charge, maybe the only time she was, hot-wet-velvet, not as fast as she wanted, not as slow as he would have, wanting who he was not taking what

_jesus-god, baby,_ the only time that endearment escaped him, _good, we're good,_ when had it ever been this good? _Ah-ah-ah slow down, Angel_

"Never, never, you're my last never," moan/whispers against his ear, face pressed hard against the side of his head and sliding down his bent-back throat, "never lie to me, never disappoint me, never…"

_Never leave you,_ the words couldn't get past his mouth, though it suddenly unlocked to fasten on her wherever he could reach, her one hand locked on his against her hip, the other locked into his in midair,

"love you, Ham, love-you-love-you," whispers to gasps to whimpers that barely formed the words he could hear anyway

slower than she wanted and faster than he would have, the war a million miles and seven hours away,

_good-good-good, we're so good, i'll never leave  
_

more than what they were doing and more than what they believed they deserved moving and breathing and almost quiet where no war existed and through the movement and gasping his own voice echoed in his head

_always quiet, always know me, always with me,_

_always need you  
_

then it rushed him, turned his brain off to everything but the feel of her on him, around him,

_ah-AAhhh-ahh-ahhangel-angel...angie_

her tears spread in his sweaty beard, his hands spread on soft hot skin

_you're my last always, Angel, my last... always  
_

_

* * *

_Angie woke first for the first time ever, sunlight filling the room, soothed by Ham's heartbeat and surrounded by gun oil and leather and his whole body, the war a million miles and three hours away. She'd have blown up every clock on earth to keep it from coming closer.


	10. Secret plans

Maggie fell into step beside Angie on the way to the kitchen. Coffee was always the first priority, and today the special treat of apples, a bushel of which had been acquired by Master Scrounger Elias. Fresh fruit was such a rare treat that the sudden windfall had had to be rationed. Most would be sliced up and would be offered to the rest of the camp at the general meeting that would follow the 10 o'clock debriefing among the library raid participants. Whole apples were reserved for the latter. Small, precious rewards those who most recently risked their lives.

At the moment, though, Maggie was focused on Angie's smile and surprisingly cheery "Good morning", out of character for somebody who would never be a "morning person".

"You're perky this morning. Guess that headache's gone."

"Yeah," Angie shrugged. "And a good night's sleep for a change, mission accomplished and all that."

"Yeah, right," Maggie took her friend's arm without slowing down, "_somebody_ got laid last night." Maggie delighted in teasing Angie about her hot love life with the (mythically) stone-cold "Fixer".

Without breaking stride Angie replied casually, "'Getting laid' sounds so..." she wrinkled her nose in distaste, then finished with a sly smile, _"passive._" and the two women laughed intimately. "He's not exactly unwilling to be ravished… 'traditional' seems to extend only to the surface, not the position."

They were still snickering as they grabbed some coffee and settled at the table. Caleb and Elias were already there, Julie and Robert arriving seconds later, followed closely by Chris Farber.

In the corridor outside, Tyler and Donovan crossed paths.

"Razor burn?" Mike observed innocently as Tyler hastily rearranged the low band collar of his shirt over the strawberry hickey in the hollow of his shoulder.

"Yeah." Tyler shouldered ahead of Donovan into the room and made sure the top button was fastened. _Shit, this time we are __going__ to have words about this teenage shit_, he promised himself.

Robert began almost before Donovan and Tyler were seated. "There are more than a few questions about what happened yesterday… most of them centering around what happened to David Peterson."

Donovan and Tyler remained impassive.

"We told you, we couldn't find him," Mike reminded everyone. "I followed Tyler to the place the maps told us he'd be waiting before his lecture, and he wasn't there. There wasn't time for a search so we went to the rendezvous point."

"Look, he's dead, end of story, " Tyler added tersely. "Maybe we should be asking why that skank lizard was pretending to cover Maggie and Angie's asses.

"No matter how he died, they're gonna make him look like a martyr. Maybe the Visitors killed him themselves if they found out his connection to Angie," Maggie offered. "And Tyler's right, we should be trying to find out why Todd is making up this crap about me and Angie."

Robert spoke next. "If it _was_ him making it up."

"Robert is right," Angie announced, "he could have been directed to recite whatever script he was fed."

More discussion followed, rapidly shifting the focus from the circumstances of the death of David Peterson to the fiction of the death of Maggie and Angie.

Finally Julie summarized, "Okay, so there are a few options here. Todd could be a Fifth Column member, and though Martin has never mentioned an inside member in the library he could be a freelance rebel." She responded to one or two doubtful expressions, "Willie can't be the only one who thinks what the Visitors are doing is wrong. It makes sense that there are others, and there's no knowing how high in the hierarchy."

"Nobody guessed little compliant me was opposed to the Visitor takeover," Angie added. "I didn't believe I was a rebel, because I wasn't part of the official Boston resistance. Do the math, guys, law of averages says that there are others like me on every side. Knowing that what's happening isn't right, but too chicken to join up with the official rebels."

"Not chicken," Tyler injected, but added nothing more.

Elias cut to the chase. "Okay, so what now? We have an opening, and I think maybe if they had any information about us or where we are we'd all be smoking piles by now. So it makes sense that this Todd guy was bullshitting."

The only possibility of confirmation lay with Martin's fifth column intelligence. Anything else was conjecture or wishful thinking, depending on the source.

"I'll try an urgent contact to Martin," Donovan offered. "With everything moving so fast I think he'd use his cell's sub-monitor radio frequency, and we'll have some info by tonight. They have a portable transmitter but I don't know how the new Visitor security protocols prompted by the raid might have affected their usual communications."

Robert concluded the meeting, "Okay, then. We'll wait for the fifth column updates before making our next move. Agreed?"

All voiced agreement.

"Next meeting dependent upon what we learn," Julie confirmed. "Sorry to say it after the day we've been through, but stand ready."

Moments later the camp filed in to be updated.

* * *

"Angie, I must speak with you in privates," Willie told Angie urgently, drawing her back as everyone exited the camp meeting that had gone as well as could be expected, given that so many were so removed from immediate action.

Angie wasn't in the mood for last-minute updates on data modules. She wanted nothing more than to go back with Tyler to her quarters, _their_ quarters, and do nothing but wallow in the illusion that four walls and two people defined the sum of the universe. Then again, Willie had never made an urgent request of her before now. Given what he'd done for her, _nothing_ was too great a request.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Come to the computer area," he told her. "It is important we do not talk where others can hear."

"What's up? Nothing new could have happened, unless you believe I'm in on something that could be dangerous," Angie protested. Still, she followed where Willie lead.

"You must trust me," he insisted. And, of course, she did. Once they were in the computer room (a _real_ computer room in the Coast Guard HQ, adapted for rebel use) Willie closed the door behind them and turned to Angie wearing a more purposeful expression than she could remember seeing.

"The extra module you brought from the library contained a message for you," Willie announced, in perfect English. "The program was self-erasing, but I can repeat from memory." He recited the message and the directions to the meeting place.

Angie listened, stunned. Given what Todd had announced for the Visitors… what could he intend? "Willie, you saw what he said on TV, what do you think it means?"

Willie knew, as others did, that the Visitor leaders would take any opportunity to destroy the Resistance. Knowing that, it would make sense that if this mid-level functionary Todd knew that Angie had gained access to sensitive files he would also have been able to help his superiors follow her to the base, and destroy them all. So it was very unlikely that his covert message was a tool for subversive advantage.

"I believe he is like myself. Unhappy by the purpose of our leaders, but not in with any group of revolt against it."

The pained look on Willie's face made it plain he was remembering that his own awakening happened only after he'd become acquainted with Harmony.

Angie was out of her depth; she knew that Todd seemed different from the others of his kind, but was clueless as to what "different" was worth as a Visitor. Willie's judgment would have to be good enough. "So you think it might be a good idea to do what he asks? To meet him and figure out how he can help?"

Willie was naïve in many ways, especially in his knowledge of Earth humans. He had come into the rebellion as an accidental ally, believing deeply that wholesale destruction pf another species was wrong yet reluctant to assist in the annihilation of his own species. Still, the possibility of allying with even one like himself, loyal to his kind yet devoted to peace, drew him toward believing what the secret message suggested.

"Yes, I believe that meeting with Todd might be a good idea. We must be cautious," because some naiveté had been leavened with hard knowledge, "but I believe a great deal was risked by sending you this message."

She considered this, and after a moment nodded in agreement. "Okay, then. I'll go."

"No, Angie. _We_ will go. But nobody else can know of this."

The firmness in Willie's demeanor overcame any possible protest.

"Right. Meet you at sundown by the cliff bench."


	11. The way things have to be

"Who's there?"

The voice was familiar, if strangely tentative.

"Who did you _invite_?" No answer, yet. "Don't fuck with me, Todd, if that's who you are. And don't think I won't blow your head off if I have to."

Angie reached into her back pocket for the blaster she'd brought along. It had been no mean feat to sneak it out of the armory; she'd hidden out of view and waited (and waited and _waited_) until Sancho left his watch position to take a leak behind the building. As Willie pointed the electric torch toward the group of rocks where the voice originated, Angie aimed the weapon steadily in the same direction. Finally Todd emerged carefully to stand in front of them. He looked even stranger than he sounded, dressed in jeans and some random sweatshirt. Out of that lizard uniform he looked almost human, she thought, he looked _so _human…

_No. Don't ever forget what he is, no matter what he seems to be._

"Who's he?" Todd squinted and asked uneasily.

Willie lowered the light a bit and spoke to Todd in their common language as the latter's eyes widened in surprise. "I told him who I was and why I am here," Willie explained to Angie.

"That's all the answer you need," she told Todd, "so let's skip to why you made up that show for the TV cameras. How could you claim we were dead with no objections from any witnesses? Did the two dozen storm troopers who chased us down suddenly go blind?"

"They are no longer an issue."

The finality in the statement brought Angie and Willie up short.

"What does that mean?" Willie asked.

"They're dead. All of them."

A quick exchange in Visitor language ensued, then Willie informed Angie, "All of the troops following us were killed after you escaped. Certain of our people made sure." He appeared unsettled by the fact, but convinced of the reality.

Angie paced madly in the sand, waving her blaster. "This doesn't make _sense_!" Willie stepped up and took hold of the hand that held the weapon.

"Please. Sense may come if we listen." This seemed to calm Angie, to Willie's relief. They hadn't walked for miles to shoot first and learn later, or whatever that human phrase was.

"We are not all the same," Todd directed to Angie, "you must believe that we do not all want the same thing."

"You used me!" Angie shouted at him, "you used me, and did me and punched _holes_ in me, and injected me with shit. How can I believe you're not the 'same' as all the rest of you?"

Willie and Todd exchanged a quiet look.

"If I were," Todd explained, "your death would be a true story." When Angie didn't respond he continued, "It's true that Daniel introduced us knowing that I wanted to know a human female. I wanted to learn about your species, how you interact, how you establish a society. I knew almost nothing about Earth humans, but I believed that Daniel had told me how I could find out. Being an Earth human, I believed he knew. It wasn't until I knew you that I learned he was wrong."

Too much, this was too much to fathom. It was hard enough to consider that this Visitor might not be as bad as the others, but it was _too_ hard to believe he'd been so misled.

"You don't 'know' me. You were just a means to me getting into the Visitor operations. It could have been anyone. Dumb luck that you could get me into biophysics. Everything I told you was a lie, to get what I wanted."

"May we sit down?" Todd asked. "There's no need to be ready to run. I have come here alone."

After a glance at Willie, whose look reassured her, Angie agreed. "Okay. But first reach up, legs spread." She patted him down the way Tyler and Chris had taught her. No hidden weapons, to her great surprise.

"Keep talking, dammit," Angie demanded as they sat down, "You told the Big Lie about me and Maggie, how does that tie into you coming here? How can I not believe that if you somehow knew how to hook into what I was doing that you wouldn't just send them after us?"

"As I said, we are not all the same."

Willie responded to Todd before Angie could protest. "There is a Fifth Column who are against the takeover of Earth. Are you with them?"

"No. I am not involved in any organized rebellion within our ranks."

"Right," Angie broke in, "so if you're _not_ with the Fifth Column, why should we believe you?"

Ignoring Angie, Todd replied to Willie (with something of a satiric edge… he'd been studying up on inflection), "Are _you_ with the Fifth Column?"

"No, I am with the human rebels." Willie looked at Angie, who got the point immediately, then continued, "Like yourself, as I learned the true reason for being here, I grew discomfortable with our leaders' goals."

"Uncomfortable," Angie corrected automatically. At that, Todd actually smiled. _So _human.

"So you see. Like Willie," he nodded in Willie's direction, "as I understood that our leaders' goal was invasion and destruction I wanted to find a way to stop it. Like Willie, I am only one."

"But why didn't you join up with the Fifth Column?" Angie demanded, still suspicious. "You must have known it existed, your leaders are going crazy to find them."

Todd stared down at the sand for a moment, then looked Angie in the eye. "I found it difficult to believe what was happening. I believed, once most of the populations were compliant, it might stop. I know now I was wrong."

_Oh my god._ Suddenly Angie saw herself, back in Boston, hoping against hope none of it was really happening, expecting it would stop because it was all so unthinkable. She shot a look at Willie, with whom she'd shared so much of her past and thoughts and regrets, and saw that he also recognized the parallel.

"When Daniel befriended me," Todd continued, "I believed I could find a safe way to warn him about what was happening. I believed that like most of the youth corps he was unaware. I was wrong about that too, and once we were social companions, and I learned how fiercely devoted he was to the destruction of his own people, it was too late to disengage without drawing attention. When he introduced Maggie and you, I believed at least I could learn enough about humans that someday I might simply disappear from the ranks and blend in with them."

Angie and Willie considered this. Given their own respective histories, it was extremely plausible. But something else screamed for attention.

"Fine," Angie acknowledged, "you're a non-allied resistor. That doesn't explain how you knew to leave a message on that module."

That unnervingly human smile returned. "Did you really believe that your exploration of the central files would go unnoticed?" he asked. "Given your species, your low clearance required that you be monitored closely. And given that I had secured your position, my superiors directed me to conduct the required monitoring. At first there was nothing… but later it was evident that your interest in our computer systems was more than idle curiosity. The search and viewing trails were undeniable."

"Search and viewing trails?" Angie was sickened by the sudden knowledge that her "cleverness" had been so transparent.

"All computer activity that extends outside a given area is tracked, as established since the discovery of a Fifth Column. Your 'outside interests' were very obvious."

Now Willie spoke up. "Why did your superiors not notice this?"

"Because I erased all traces of the searches. By the time they had arisen, I had learned how false Daniel's words were. I began to suspect that you," he nodded to Angie, "were somehow involved in a resistance to the invasion. But I was not certain. Up until that time your outside-area searches could have been explained by curiosity and lack of discipline. In themselves they may not have been worth reporting. So I did not, though I was required to do so, and instead erased the tracking logs. I could not ask you directly for fear of being wrong, and having you report me as a traitor. It was not until the days before the raid on the library that I was sure of your alliance, when I found your searches of the extended human personnel files."

It was all too sudden and confusing. Angie felt like a complete moron as she asked, "So you weren't part of the Fifth Column, not part of _any_ resistance, but you erased all evidence of my spying? Why didn't you say anything that last day, when you came into the biophysics area?"

"Because I did not wish to risk your lives. By then any disruption would have guaranteed the death of your companions and the failure of your raid. Even though I didn't know its purpose or target, I believed in its importance. And when the troops that pursued you were killed by Fifth Columnists, I saw an opportunity."

"For what?" Angie asked.

"To feel like I was fighting back, in however small a way. That's why I reported your 'deaths'. Dead humans are of no consequence, so you would be free to continue your missions of liberation."

The trio sat quietly for a few moments. Finally, Willie spoke.

"Todd, what will you do next?"

"Maybe if you just go back to your assignment you can find others like you, and work from within?" Angie asked hopefully.

Todd shook his head. "I'm here because I ran away. I have left my assignment, and the invasion force, forever. I was hoping," here he looked closely at Angie, "that I could come back with you, and join your resistance?"

Angela Harper felt the last vestiges of her old-world/old-life/old-self slip away forever as she firmly declared, "No."

The looks on Todd's and Willie's faces pitched a perfect harmony between doubt and disbelief.

"But we must," Willie began, "he has endangered himself to help us."

"We _can't_," Angie told them both. "It's too dangerous, Todd, think about it. If they monitored me, you think they weren't monitoring you? These kinds of bastards _always_ watch the watchers."

He nodded briefly. "You're right, of course. I chose this place for that reason."

Nearly six miles from the camp, and accessible only by foot. The middle of nowhere. So it was nowhere the Visitors would consider significant, no matter who was going there. He'd chosen very well indeed, but Angie knew that bringing Todd all the way into their group would be tantamount to giving the Visitors a map. Even if it wasn't it would never work.

"Can we not ask for a vote among our leaders?" Willie proposed, desperate for a way to save one of his own kind that was so much like himself.

"Willie, please," Angie reached out and grasped his hand," I'm sorry, but don't you know how many of the rebels still don't trust you? And after so long if they can't do that, how many do you think would trust Todd, the newest 'hero' of the occupation?"

"If you spoke for me," Todd suggested, "perhaps they would listen."

_Shit_. She shook her head firmly. "No, they wouldn't. No matter what you did on TV, no matter what lies you told your superiors, _my_ people would never believe it's not part of some master plan to destroy us."

"That is not true," Willie protested, "Julie, and Dr. Maxwell, they might listen. And Mike could ask the Fifth Column to find out if it was safe, he can ask his friend…"

Angie lunged to clamp a hand over Willie's mouth before he could say Martin's name, even as she was ashamed for doing it. _The fewer that know, the more that will survive,_ wasn't that one of the things Tyler, and even Julie and Donovan, had taught her?

"I understand," Todd acknowledged, and his expression made it plain that he did. "I didn't think clearly when I contacted you. I didn't plan as your people have. Like Willie, I just ran. It is not your fault. What is that human saying, 'timing is everything'? I have yet to master timing." He smiled, a remarkably human-looking smile of wry wisdom too suddenly achieved. "I still would like to help."

Angie fought to ignore the knot in her gut. He'd saved her life, he'd bought time for her and the others. She _wanted_ to bring him back with them, because it was right and moral and he deserved a chance to make up for what he so clearly regretted being a part of. But right and moral didn't count anymore. It was all about survival.

"How?" Her voice was a ragged whisper.

Todd had already risen to his feet and took a few paces back and forth. "How long ago did you leave your last camp?"

Willie helped Angie to her feet and they exchanged puzzled looks. "Three months?" Willie asked and Angie nodded in agreement.

"And did you leave things behind, things that would show you had been there?"

"A crapload of stuff, actually, just nothing anyone could use to find us. The Visitors hadn't caught on where we were, but with so much resistance activity going on at the time we figured we'd better move just in case. What does it matter now?"

"Maybe there _is_ a way I can return to my place on the 'inside'," Todd suggested. "Where was this camp? And are you sure my people have never located it?"

Both Willie and Angie were as sure as could be possible, and told him so, then told him the location of the old movie set and how to find it.

"Very well." Todd spoke with assurance. "I will return to Visitor headquarters and inform my superiors that I found the rebel encampment where the raid was planned. They will of course find it abandoned, but I will provide them somewhat incomplete 'information' indicating where you have gone. Far away from here, of course. It will be information I obtained when I dressed as one of you and slipped into your camp for a few hours in the confusion after your raid."

Angie and Willie stared, speechless, until Angie finally asked, "How do you know it'll work? How _could_ it work, when they've probably been monitoring you for a long time now?"

"I don't know," Todd admitted. "But at least I'll feel like I'm fighting back. It's something I should have done a long time ago."

Angie didn't know what to think as she stood looking at the alien who was trying so hard not to be one. When he took a few steps closer and looked down into her face, she didn't step back.

"I am sorry, Angie, for things I did to you. I'm sorry for the lies I believed that Daniel told me, and I am sorry you suffered abuse to keep my trust."

"That was a fake job," she admitted awkwardly. "Oh, the bruises were real, but the 'ex'… well he wasn't really an ex."

Todd asked in a shocked voice, "He values you that little?"

"He loves me that much."

Now she did step back to stand nearer to Willie, who extended his hand to Todd.

"Good luck," Willie told him sadly, "I am sorry you cannot join us."

Then Todd reached his hand out to Angie. "I don't suppose it could make us friends, but I hope you succeed in liberating your people."

She took his hand and answered with painful honesty. "I don't know what we are. But I think we're not enemies."

Todd smiled and mimicked a human wink. "Close enough." As he turned and walked rapidly away Angie chased after him.

"Here," she pulled the blaster from where she'd replaced it in her back pocket. "You'll be needing this. To fight back."

Their eyes locked for just a moment but nothing more was said. Angie turned away as he left.

"It's after midnight. We'd better get back before they think something's happened," she announced.

Willie fixed Angie with an unreadable look. "Something _has_ happened."

She very nearly broke then. Gasping a breath, she went to grab Willie by the front of his shirt.

"Willie _please_," she begged him, "of everyone I know I need you to understand. Not agree, not like it, just know me well enough to know I don't _want_ things to be like this." She let him go and stepped back, stared up at the stars and then turned back in the direction they'd come from. "They just have to be, I can't make them different!"

Willie put his hand on Angie's shoulder as he stood behind her. "It is all right, Angie. We will never be enemies." When she whipped around to lock onto him in a desperate hug he didn't flinch.

They separated after a moment, and made the long trek back to camp in silence.


	12. The right way

It wasn't until he reached the first stairs to the lighthouse that Willie noticed he was alone. Their return had been accompanied only by the sound of the waves. He'd kept as far from the water as possible, a good twenty feet up the beach, while Angie walked close enough to the waves for them to lap near her feet. He was troubled by their discussion with Todd, more deeply so by his being turned away when he so obviously wanted to return with them to help in any way he could. As Willie himself had done. Still, Willie had been among this particular group of humans long enough to understand that their survival might depend upon their ability to deny their better instincts. As he glanced at Angie slogging along in the wet sand, eyes downcast, he was keenly aware of the difficulty of her decision. As hard as it was for him to see that his own species was capable of the coldest kind of cruelty, it was even harder to see others forced into cruel acts they would give anything to avoid. Now he stood still, unwilling to call out her name. His chameleon-like eyes rotated in opposite directions, searching for Angie's heat halo. He found her about a dozen feet from the stairs, sitting flat on the sand.

"Angie," he approached carefully, not wanting to upset her further, "are you okay?"

Unsure at first what to say, Angie couldn't contain a sigh. Then she leaned her head back toward Willie without exactly facing him.

"Yeah."

"Do you not want to return to camp and sleep? It is late, and you must be tried."

Oh, truer words were never spoken…

"Not so tired, really, I just need to sit here a bit and gather my thoughts. You know there's gonna be a lot of explaining to do, so best I know what I'm thinking before I try to tell anybody else."

Hesitation, then, "I will tell whatever is necessary to help." He could see her nod.

"Thanks. Let's just see what happens next."

A Visitor sigh, in fact, wasn't discernible by human ears. "Okay." Willie turned to climb the stairs but was stopped by Angie's question.

"Willie? Are we still friends?" She knew too well that acquiescing was a long way from understanding.

"You didn't hear me," Willie suggested as he retreated from the stairs to speak directly to Angie, though she didn't face him, "we will never be enemies."

"That's not the same." Realizing then that she was demanding too much of his language skills she added, "no, wait, I'm sorry…" but he'd already knelt in the sand behind her.

"No it is not," Willie agreed and pressed both hands against Angie's shoulders as he leaned closer, "we are still friends, Angie. We will _always_ be friends."

* * *

"I'm telling you, nobody came or went on my watch!" Sancho insisted angrily. Ham Tyler had done a weapons inventory count prior to the morning watch at 6 am, again at noon, and most recently Sancho's watch at 6pm. The count before Chris Farber's midnight watch had come up one hand blaster short, and Tyler was on a tear. As a key tactical coordinator it had always been a Tyler habit to keep tabs on the munitions. Since the destruction of the library and the concentration on the biophysics and personnel modules in past two days, The Fixer had had nothing to occupy him _except_ tracking inventory. With no raids in or out it should have been routine, but right now Sancho had no defense except "I saw nothing."

"Look, Slick, there's only _one _way into this fucking tool shed. You saying that the fairies pranced in under your feet and spirited a blaster away? Maybe while you were taking a little _nap_," he glowered threateningly.

"I'm _saying_, I didn't see nobody, and I _didn't_ take no 'nap'!"

Both men stood toe to toe, on the verge of shifting from words to blows, when Willie overheard the commotion and hurried to where they were standing. "What is wrong," he asked in alarm.

"Stay outta this, Willie," Tyler warned. "This is about somebody not doing the job right, even though there was nothing to do but stand here and stare at the door!"

"There's a blaster missing, and Mr. Fixer-Commando here says I shoulda known. I'm telling him I didn't see or hear anybody come or go, but he knows better!" Sancho raged.

Getting the gist of the situation, Willie explained, "Angie took the weapon."

Tyler and Sancho were silenced in mid-rant as they stared at Willie. Tyler recovered his wits first.

"_Angie_ took it?" He glared at Sancho. "You saying you didn't see her?" Sancho, tired of repeating himself, responded with a wild explosion of Spanish.

"She waited," Willie hastened to continue, "she waited for a long time. Until you left for just a moment and went behind that tree," he indicated a scrubby bush nearby.

Tyler was having a hard time absorbing any of this. "She waited until Slick took a leak, and got in and out without him seeing?"

Willie nodded, "She has had much practice, for the raid."

"Fine, take off," Tyler grunted at Sancho, who snorted in disgust and strode off into the darkness, then turned his attention to Willie. "You wanna tell me what went on tonight? You can start with where Angie is, and what she did with that blaster."

There was nothing for Willie to do but tell Tyler the truth: about the message on the module, Angie's decision to meet with Todd, Willie's insistence that she not go alone. He kept expecting Tyler to interrupt, to express anger, but the dark man listened in silence. By the time he'd finished his story, Willie was truly perplexed. Surely Mr. Tyler would be enraged that Angie had given a weapon to an unarmed Visitor, surely he would be extremely displeased that Angie and Willie both had gone off on their own to meet Todd without telling anyone. But the man in the black leather blazer was unreadable.

Finally Tyler spoke. "Where is she?"

Willie gulped. He understood the nature of Angie's relationship with Tyler, and suspected that tonight's events would cause serious discord between them. More than that, Mr. Tyler's being in charge of things like weapons, tactical operations, and the like put such a reckless "mission" in direct opposition with what was expected of all of the rebels. Not surprisingly, the first possibility troubled Willie more than the second.

"When we returned she stayed on the beach, at the bottom of the stairs. She wished to harvest her ideas. Ah, gather her thoughts."

"I'll bet. Okay, Willie, we're gonna have to go over this with the others tomorrow. Gooder hasn't come back from his meet with that lizard friend of his."

"Martin," Willie offered.

"Yeah, him. He was going to get some background on this Todd, see if he's got two faces or three. Might as well find out what he learned before we talk any more about this." He turned on his heel to go, then stopped short and exclaimed in exasperation, "Shit, Willie, couldn't you have talked her out of it? She _listens_ to you."

"I could not. She would go, so I went with her. We planned as safely as we could, but… she _would_ go. She does not always listen to me." Willie could discern a smirk in the darkness.

"Well that's one thing we have in common," Tyler muttered as he strode away. Willie ran to catch up.

"Please, do not be very angry with her. She wanted the right thing for everybody."

"I _know_ that, for christsake," Tyler shot back irritably. Not for the first time, he wondered _shit, how much of a monster do I really seem like?_ Then he asked the question that was nagging at him, because it was the one thing that didn't make a damn bit of sense.

"When Angie said no to that lizard... don't tell me you liked the answer because I know you didn't. There were two of you, and just one of her. You know damn well she wouldn't shoot either one of you. So why didn't you just bring him back anyway?"

Willie nodded somberly, "She said no. She said why. It is how things have to be."

"You didn't answer my question. When Angie turned this Todd guy away, why did you go along with it? He's one of yours, and she's not in charge of anything."

For the first time, the reluctant invader and the badass mercenary stood on equal ground.

"We want to _help,_" Willie emphasized the last word as if Tyler might not understand it. "This resistance is not for our survival, it is for yours. So we 'went along'."

Tyler suddenly felt like a world-class asshole, and abruptly began to walk in the direction of the barracks. "It's late, and there's gonna be lots of discussion tomorrow. Time to crash."

"You are not going to look for Angie?" Willie asked cautiously as he followed.

"I think it's better to leave her to herself for a while." Before they parted company at the barracks building Tyler told Willie, "Thanks for not letting her go off alone. She can get crazy on her own."

Willie rolled his eyes and nodded readily in agreement. "You can say _that_ twice."

* * *

Angie stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in one of the thick terry robes that Elias had managed to get from a plundered luxury hotel that the Visitors had taken over. She stood in front of the mirror toweling her hair, staring at the face that stared back at her. Same old face, no new wisdom, no loss of humanity. No golden glow to tell the world she'd learned to swap one life for many. She knew it was a swap, no question, because whatever Todd was planning it'd take a miracle for him to pull it off, and a bigger one to get on with the life he'd mentioned: blending in with humanity. Sharing the world instead of conquering it.

"Miracles are as dead as Elvis," she announced bitterly and shoved every black possibility out of her mind. Sleep, Angie wanted to shut her brain off and retreat into blackness. Slipping silently into her quarters, she dropped her robe and grabbed one of Tyler's generic black t shirts from where it hung on the hook behind the door. _Sleepwear, war-wear, who cares._

She dragged it over her head and approached where Tyler lay on his side with one arm flung out over her empty side of the bed. Sitting very carefully she studied him for a bit. Angie hadn't seen Tyler asleep since that night in the cheesy hotel shortly after he and Chris had picked her up. He looked the same now as then, sleeping but ready, the hard face softened by the beard she knew he'd love to get rid of but kept because she liked it. By this time, of course, she'd learned more about what was inside. But not so much more, she realized. What she knew outweighed what she'd learned. One thing she knew for sure is that he would not be pleased by what she'd done tonight. Stealing a weapon, sneaking off to a "freestyle" meet with someone nobody in the camp would trust on their most naïve day. Painting another target on Tyler's forehead for the doubters to draw aim on, because of who he was in the rebel hierarchy and who she was to him.

"I did a really bad thing," she whispered like a guilty six-year-old.

"Yeah. Willie told me all about it."

She'd have jumped at the sound of his voice if she hadn't known instinctively that he wasn't really asleep.

"I didn't know what else to do. I had to find out for myself. I couldn't tell anyone else, they'd never have agreed to it."

"You got _that_ right." Tyler rolled onto his back and looked up at Angie.

"I planned it all as carefully as I could," she felt compelled to tell him, "I took a weapon, took Willie along, I'd never have gone if the place wasn't in the middle of nowhere and far enough from here… but I _had_ to."

She was waiting for a lecture on discipline, a scolding about freestyling, but all he said was, "I know."

"Huh?"

Now Tyler sat up to look Angie straight in the eye. "Don't sound so surprised. You're right, it was important to find out what this lizard was up to, why he covered you and Maggie, and why he stuck that message in the module. We both know I wouldn't have handled it the same way. But if you had to do it, you did it the right way. All of it."

She knew what he was referring to. "I don't need anybody to tell me that."

"No, you don't." Acknowledgment. "But there's something you _do _need to be told, there just hasn't been time. About Peterson…"

"Don't bother telling me your story was bullshit," Angie told Tyler flatly. "David never held a weapon in his life." She thought for a minute then added, "He liked to pull strings, but he left the triggers to people who didn't mind getting their hands dirty."

"Not that." He leaned closer now, as if sharing a secret. "He wasn't after anything from you but down time. His real mark was your boss."

Angie's eyes widened. "You mean that? How do you know?"

"He told me. Right before I blew the sorry sonofabitch away." She didn't even flinch, and he couldn't decide whether or not he was surprised.

"So he got nothing… I never gave him anything he used against anyone…" Angie felt as if a knife had been pulled from her gut.

"Not a thing. I would've told you sooner but you were busy planning a fit of freestyle." He studied her face as best he could in the dark. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I almost wish I wasn't." Angie felt the warmth of Tyler's beard press against her face.

"Goes with the territory. C'mon Angel, you're gonna be up before the inquisition again."

"It's getting to be a habit, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but you're refining your style."

Tyler lay back in bed and lifted the covers in invitation, a move that Angie had once admitted was possibly the hottest one she'd ever seen. When, as expected, she slid in and wrapped around him he commented, "Hey, that my t shirt?"

"Mmm, yup."

"Well take it off, you're gonna stretch it out in all the wrong places."

Angie rolled on top of Tyler, a move that _he'd_ once admitted was the fastest turn-on he'd ever experienced. "Where might those be?"

"Well," he rumbled, "here... and right here..." He slid his hands up and under the shirt as Angie stretched above him. "There," as she bent forward a bit he popped the shirt over her head and tossed it away, "disaster averted."

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad," Angie smirked slyly, "now where were those _bad_ places?"

Tyler couldn't suppress a dark chuckle, "Well I wouldn't call them _bad_, but c'mere, and I'll show you again..."

Willie's concerns about discord were rapidly rendered moot.

* * *

Tyler was wakened by a stirring against him. Angie was lying face down, Tyler resting across her back, one arm wrapped around her, his face laid in the side of her neck. He raised his head a bit, hearing her call indistinctly, words he couldn't discern. If it was a nightmare, it was a damn calm one. Then the words were repeated more clearly.

"Come back," she called, voice fuzzy, as if she were literally speaking from the other side of sleep where another world was happening. Fuzzy or no, the plaintive note was obvious.

"I'm right..." Tyler began, then stopped himself as he realized she wasn't calling to him at all. She wasn't calling him because it was something else she needed. Explanations from a dead lover, forgiveness from a reluctant enemy, a nearly-forgotten life resurrected by revelations she could have done better without and the need to revisit choices too late to change.

"Come back..." this time it faded into sadness, then Angie was quiet again.

Tyler moved carefully so he wouldn't wake her (she had a right to some inner privacy, he figured) and rested his cheek against hers, feeling traces of tears as they lost themselves in his beard. Angie turned in his arms without waking, then slurred his name just once, "Tyllllrrrr." It sounded like a purr of contentment.

"That's right, Angel. I'm not going anywhere." He kissed the side of her head and settled her closer. It took him a while to fall asleep again.


	13. Wins and losses

The latest "inquisition" was more de-briefing than adversarial. At least it started out that way.

Donovan, looking pretty raggedy after a night finding and meeting with Martin, reported what he'd learned about Todd.

"Just a rank-and-file functionary, higher up the food chain than Willie, if you'll pardon the expression. He rose fairly quickly in terms of security clearance but that seems to be connected to him being so low-key. His focus was on 'human relations', i.e. direct indoctrination, specifically the Visitor Youth Program. But he didn't join up with any of the 'concentration' groups that focused on the more specialized aspects of converting humans or processing them for, well, you know. No interest in the more radical sub-groups among his level, kind of social-thug groups that got off on ad hoc harassment of humans. Before the library was 'cleansed' of unnecessary books, he spent more time in the sociology and anthropology areas than could be justified by his function in the occupation." Mike shrugged finally, and offered, "Kind of a nerd in lizard terms. No particular ambitions toward advancing higher, no contact at all with anyone connected with the Fifth Column. Just a regular guy."

"Who likes to mess with human women," added Caleb. "And maybe he found a favorite," he directed toward Angie.

"Are you ready to listen to what _I _found out last night?" Angie asked him dryly, "or would you like a few more minutes to sound like a jerk?"

It was obvious Angie's bullshit tolerance was hovering near zero. Maxwell, Julie, and Donovan listened attentively. Tyler, who knew the whole story already, just sat and waited, and Willie remained poised to offer any clarification necessary. Caleb was the only one wearing a doubtful expression.

Angie related the details as Willie had to Tyler the night before, the message, and why and how they'd decided to meet as Todd had requested. She skated fairly quickly through Willie and Todd's protest of her refusal to let Todd join the rebels, and finished with his plan to misdirect his superiors.

"Do you think it'll work?" Donovan wanted to know.

Angie shrugged and admitted, "That's the most popular question I wish I had an answer to. Hell, I _hope_ so."

"Suppose it doesn't," Robert injected, "suppose they just grab him and tag him as a traitor. If they convert him, or whatever they do to their own kind, we're done."

"He doesn't know where we are," Angie answered, shaking her head. "He based our meet location on where he _thought_ I lived before, and placed it a few miles away on the beach, which also happens to be a few miles away from where we really are. He wasn't followed, I'm sure of it."

"How can you be so sure?" Robert argued.

Angie gestured around them. "Because we're all still alive, that's how. If they followed him there, they'd have followed us back. And they wouldn't be waiting for an invitation or a fancy invasion party. They'd just blast us flat."

Now Julie spoke up, "Speaking of blasters, do you really think it was a good idea to give him one?"

"Yeah, I do. He'll need it to hold up his story." _And maybe to save his life_, she added silently.

Caleb, who wasn't happy with anything he'd heard so far, threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, _right_. When he goes back to his bosses and tells them to find us in the _wrong_ place."

"I told you, he doesn't know where we are!" Angie shot back.

"And you know this why… because he told you? He sticks a message on a module you thought nobody knew you were accessing, and you just _believe_ he couldn't find out where we're located so he could get himself an even bigger boost up the lizard ladder than announcing your 'death'?"

Angie continued to shake her head dismissively. "You don't know him."

"You mean I didn't _screw_ him."

Tyler's knuckles went white where his hands gripped the arms of his chair, but he said nothing. _This is her fight, she's earned the right._

Julie's mouth had barely opened to protest, and even Donovan was leaning forward with an angry expression, but Angie moved faster.

She knocked her chair over as she jumped up.

"_Screw_ him?" she snapped. "Is that what you think I've been doing, getting a little exotic sumpin-sumpin on the side, just for fun like?" She turned her back on them and yanked her shirt up, exposing her back and shoulders. The scars that would never fully disappear were clearly visible, too many of them to be obstructed by her bra. Angie was deaf to a few barely suppressed gasps. "Oh yeah, it was a _real_ _hot_ time, Caleb!" She pulled her shirt down again and spun to face him. "I know you all went through some bad shit long before I came, but I think by now I've earned membership in your 'smart and badass' club. And nobody should know better than _you_ how what you _think_ you know about somebody can turn on a fucking _dime_ when you suddenly realize you didn't know shit!"

Caleb sat speechless for a moment or two then cast a shamefaced look at Willie, who looked as if he'd turned to stone.

Finally Caleb spoke in a very quiet voice, "Point taken. I apologize. Spend enough time surviving like an animal, and I start to act like one." He looked Angie in the eye and repeated, "I apologize. That was wrong, and evil, and I'd take it back if I could."

With a terse nod Angie righted her chair and sat again, fighting to bring her breathing back to normal. She'd been reminding Caleb of Willie, sure, but it was more than him and Todd she was thinking of. David… _that_ 'knowledge' had turned on a dime, all right, and had run right over her like a Mack truck.

"Well I think the best thing to do right now is wait and see what shows up from Martin, or on the Visitor Network," Julie announced in a shaky voice, trying to sound businesslike. "Robert and I are working to analyze the biophysics module; we've been finding some interesting emphases in some unusual areas that are outside the scope of what they seem to have immunized against. We think maybe it was something they were still working on at the time of the library raid. Willie, you'll be working on the personnel module, because it's all in coded Visitor language. Everyone else… just wait. Thanks for coming."

Angie brushed past the others on the way out the door, but not before Caleb could pause her with a hand on her arm that she wasn't inclined to shake off.

"If I could take that back," he began before she stopped him.

"Look, it's okay. This shit gives all of us moments of, I dunno, uncivilization. Hey, I made up a word," Angie managed to smile at Caleb. "Let it go, okay?"

"Okay," and Caleb managed to smile in return. "And hey, welcome to the club. Your membership card's in the mail."

As she left the building Angie passed Tyler, who was leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Hey," she greeted him, as if nothing dramatic had happened. "Feel like a walk, handsome?"

He laughed and rubbed his face as he straightened to stand next to her. "I think you have me confused with somebody else, but okay… if you don't mind being seen with a pussy like me."

It was her turn to laugh, and loud. "Oh _right! _Now The Fixer is The Pussy?"

He grabbed her waving hand to stop her. "Compared to you in there? C'mon, let's walk off some of that fierce adrenaline of yours."

They fell into step together and after a few paces Tyler bent toward Angie's waist as he walked, as if he were listening for something, then he jumped back and clamped his hands over his ears.

"Whew, better find someplace where that clanking won't deafen everyone."

Angie stopped short. "What the _hell _are you talking about??" The answer came in the form of Tyler's quick grope between her legs.

"Brass ones, baby," he grabbed her hand and kept walking. "_Big _brass ones."

* * *

_Visitor News Network Special Bulletin: Todd, hero of the failed rebel raid on the Visitor Youth Center, gave his life early this morning in a single-handed attempt to apprehend a splinter cell of the Fifth Column. Twelve columnists were brought down before Todd was killed by a cowardly sniper attack believed to be connected to the Los Angeles Resistance. More on this story as it develops.

* * *

_The rebels gathered in the barracks community room tried not to stare in unison at Angie. Those that dared a glance saw a face registering no emotion, almost as if she'd expected this. Without a word she rose and left the room, heading straight for the kitchen where she knew Donovan and Chris were winding down after another run to get weapons from Martin and his people.

"Mike, did any columnists get ambushed today?"

He shook his head, confused. "Nope. Alive and well."

"Thought not."

The two men understood the question when, after she'd left, the radio on the counter broadcast the Visitor News on a tape delay.

"Shit," Farber drawled with a slow shake of his head. "I was kinda hopin' he'd make it."

* * *

Angie raced from room to room in the main building, searching for Maggie, ignoring all questions. When finally she burst out the door and into the open compound she saw Elias approaching at a run, something held under his arm like a football.

"Angie, wait."

"Not now, Elias. I need to find Maggie."

"She's in the dispensary helping with inventory."

She was tearing off toward the medical building when Elias called after her, "Angie _wait!_"

"_What!_" It was almost a scream as she stopped short to face him.

When he'd jogged to where she stood she saw he was offering her a bottle of Stolichnaya, worth more than a truckload of gold.

"Here," he said simply, "I figured it was time."

With a short, grateful gasp of "Thanks," Angie took the bottle, then ran for the dispensary.


	14. Girls' night out

"A dental hygienist? Shut _up_… no wonder you looked so right in a cheesy polyester uniform!"

Stereo peals of laughter carried easily in the otherwise silent night, reaching the men keeping watch on the lighthouse observation platform.

"Damn, I don't know if I could laugh if I'd gone through all of that," Donovan muttered.

Chris peered into the darkness and barely made out the shapes of Maggie and Angie rolling in the sea grass near the edge of the bluff that led to the beach.

"Whatever it takes, man. They earned the right to speak in tongues and dance on stilts if they want. Suckin' up vodka and laughin' themselves silly don't seem like much to ask."

* * *

It was true, the angst-ridden cathartic bender Maggie and Angie had been expecting was taking a different turn. Rather than wallowing in tears and wrestling with unanswerable questions, they had fallen into a different sort of "girls' night out".

"Well I'm just picturing _you_ all geeky and serious and glued to your library computer with a square-eyed stare!" Maggie leaned closer to where Angie had struggled to a sitting position. "Yep, they still have those four telltale corners…"

"Ha, ha."

A few minutes of silence followed as first Maggie, and then Angie, took a pull from the bottle. No glasses here. Glasses were for pussies.

"I'm about to break the Prime Rule," Maggie warned lazily, leaning on one arm to keep from flopping over.

The Prime Rule… it was something they'd both devised almost from day one of Angie's recruitment into Maggie's inside game. It was simple, direct, and never to be broken on pain of… whatever. They'd never had to come up with a punishment.

The Prime Rule was: Never, _ever_, muse on what you'll do or where you'll go when the war's over. The Sub-Prime Rule was: never _ever_ whine about what you miss most about the Old World. The Prime Rules were simple but very hard to adhere to, given that most of the camp couldn't _stop_ going on about those forbidden subjects, and it was easy to get drawn into whatever circle of musing was going on around you. Maggie occasionally confessed she was a little jealous of Angie's having a "resident rule reinforcer", aka Ham Tyler. Everything about him was in the here-and-now, and _nothing_ about him encouraged playing "some day" or "once upon a time", or so Maggie had informed Angie, who had to agree. It was one of the things about Tyler that kept her sane and helped her to shut out just about everything in the universe when they were alone in that 8 x 10 oasis of blank walls and stolen furniture known as their "quarters".

"No, no, fight it!" Angie grabbed the bottle and crab-walked across the few feet that separated her from Maggie. "Here, kill it with this!"

A deep slug was followed by a sheepish shake of the head. "Nope, no good… okay I'll just say I'm smelling the air through the cave-in." She heaved a weary sigh. "Or maybe it's just the rocks have stopped falling on my head. You think maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe. It does kind of feel like that." Angie held the bottle up to one squinting eye, trying to gauge the level of the remaining vodka in the faint wash of the compound lights far behind them. Looked like about half.

"We killed it yet?"

"Nope," Angie sloshed the bottle nearer Maggie's ear. "Wounded, though." More silly laughter bubbled between them.

* * *

"I always had her figured for a weepy drunk," Donovan was observing from the lighthouse perch. He and Chris had been joined by Caleb and then by Tyler. Nobody much had anything to do while Maxwell and Willie worked feverishly to decode and comprehend the data modules that (they hoped) would hold the key to their salvation.

"Nah, trust me," Tyler disagreed, "when she gets blasted she'll be mean-mouthed and ready for a fight. This silly shit is just a warmup." Not that he'd ever _seen_ Angie drunk, but he figured he had her nailed.

"Care to put some money on that, friend?" Caleb invited. In truth he agreed with Tyler, having seen Angie's temper spike now and then, and was hoping to sucker Donovan.

Nobody but the tactical guys ever had cash, for use in getting weapons and information. Cash wasn't really a whole lot of use for anything else nowadays, but it wouldn't hurt to have a few extra bucks come the end of the war.

"Sure," Tyler agreed with a vulpine smile, "unless Gooder's willing to admit it's a sucker bet."

"Hmm, you're the arms dealer. I can't use money much. How about that Harley?"

This gave everyone pause. Nobody, not even Chris Farber, knew how Tyler had come to "own" the Harley, they only knew he hadn't brought it with him. It had been in the motor pool, acquired along with various miscellaneous vehicles, none of which could have been claimed by anyone. Tyler had grabbed it first when he'd taken Angie up country for those couple of secret days that had returned them as a couple. He'd taken it like it belonged to him, and had ridden it since then to trade information and gather intelligence, and nobody had thought much about who "owned" it.

"Okay Gooder you're on," Tyler shrugged, having no doubts about his knowledge of the woman who shared his life and his bed. "I'll just take an IOU for your next ten years' income."

* * *

"Sorry Mag, I din't mean shut up… what's that air you smelled?" Angie had been sniffing some air of her own, and had frankly stopped wondering about her future with Tyler. No question they'd be together, the only question was where, and doing what.

"'kay…" Maggie swilled again from the bottle that miraculously still had a couple of inches to spare. "Not too deep or nuthin. Just been having a dream or two lately, about, you know, _when_. When this is over. And I dream, jesus, shit I _dream_…" she trailed off as if it were too painful to go on.

_Oh god, it's about Mark. She's dreaming about how it was, how it'd be if he were alive to see this all be over._ Angie braced herself, as best she could under the influence, and invited, "G'ahead, tell me."

"I've been dreaming of the day somebody, _anybody_, they'd ask where I'm from, and not mean L.A. Resistance, or Midwest Resistance, or whatever cell… and I could just answer 'L.A.' like it was jus' a place, and I was just some broad who lived there."

It was so small, so minor and everyday. So _not_ the deep-and-meaningful crap everyone else kept trading as if it would mean they took their former lives seriously instead of taking it for granted, as they mostly had. And Maggie almost missed the gulp of recognition that Angie swallowed. But not quite. They'd become too attuned to one another, too connected through their mutual surrender of their previous selves to their greater need, for Maggie not to notice. It was more than recent history, more than the necessity of war, for both of them.

Maggie gazed steadily into Angie's silence, demanding an honest reply with a single word.

"What." No question mark.

_Just like Tyler_. "Where do I say _I'm_ from? A hole in the ground?"

Being the first grounds of resistance, Boston had been the only city that the Visitors had entirely laid waste as a symbol of their capabilities and a benchmark of their propaganda.

Maggie let the now-empty bottle fall to the ground, and the two women regarded each other with drunken understanding.

"That part's over now," Maggie whispered, meaning Angie's betrayals in Boston, by David, by her own naiveté. But she also meant her own losses to Daniel at Mark's expense and her own, and Angie's to Todd and later to herself. They'd both lost so much of themselves, Maggie wondered if the holes inside would ever heal.

"Over," Angie echoed and added in an empty voice, "I don't think it'll ever be over."

Her friend shook her head wildly, "But we survived it, we'll _survive _it, we will, we _will_..."

The two women reached blindly for one another and held tight as a vise, shaking with silent tears.


	15. Under the lighthouse

"Not walking too good..."

"Me neither… almost there."

Maggie and Angie stumbled toward the lighthouse. Half a bottle (because, truth to tell, they'd spilled at least half on the ground) was having its effect. They'd attempted to be clever, eating a couple of sandwiches each before going to the grassy cliff that looked onto the beach. Not surprisingly, even a quarter bottle each had its effect, on Angie more than Maggie. Maggie had a long history of partying, though it had been interrupted by the Visitor invasion. Until, that is, her immersion in the Visitor operations she acquired after hooking up with Daniel. Booze, occasionally when available, had smoothed the road at least a little. Even so Maggie was out of practice.

Her (very) younger wild life notwithstanding, Angie was singularly unprepared for even ¼ bottle of the good stuff.

"C'mon you pussy, just a little further," Maggie dragged on Angie's arm when her friend stumbled. They pushed, pulled, and dragged each other to within ten feet of the door at the base of the lighthouse, and stopped to catch their breath.

"Woulda been easier if we'd walked on the… walk," Angie pointed out.

They'd been slogging through the sand and scrubby grass on the way up the bluff; now the spill of the compound floodlights revealed their path: roughly four feet to one side of the concrete walk that reached all the way to the cliff steps. As the two women doubled over in combined laughter and breathlessness Donovan and Caleb were exiting the lighthouse tower. Donovan had a meet set up with Martin in an hour to be updated on the Visitor plans in the aftermath of their very busy week, and he didn't want to have to hurry. Seeing Maggie and Angie, however, he couldn't hold himself back.

"Hey, I think I hear a Harley calling," he commented to Caleb.

"Careful what you wish for… he might mess with the brakes."

Now standing more or less upright, Angie and Maggie watched the men's approach.

"Damn, wish I could walk that good," Angie mumbled. Then she saw Mike shoot an aside to Caleb, and was surprised by Donovan's sudden advance.

Shining his electric torch in her face, Mike leaned close and peered into Angie's bloodshot eyes, still puffy from hers and Maggie's tearful jag.

"Hah!" he shouted back at Caleb, "she _has_ been crying! Tyler owes me that Harley!"

Neither Angie nor Maggie understood what he was talking about, though Angie somehow absorbed she was being made the butt of… something. Didn't matter what. After the last few days she'd had enough of… _everything_…to trigger her newly developed pissed-off driven reflexes.

"Fuck you Gooder!" she snapped, swinging wildly, meaning to knock the blinding light away from her face. Her coordination wasn't at its best, so her fist connected squarely with Mike Donovan's jaw with enough force (and surprise) to knock him backward. He tripped on an unseen rock and landed flat on his ass.

"Guess you'll be walking after all," Caleb drawled at Donovan as he struggled to his feet. He liked Donovan in general, but firmly believed he could stand being knocked down a peg or two now and then.

Mike indignantly confronted the somewhat bewildered Angie, "You're nuts!" he hollered, but moved back a step just in case.

"Fuck you!" she repeated, "An' the white horse you rode in on!" Then she stood silent, able to think of nothing else to say. God, her hand hurt. She stared at it blearily as Donovan strode away trailed by Caleb, whose laughter in turn trailed behind them both.

"Ow. Did I bust it?"

Maggie pulled Angie under the light mounted next to the lighthouse door and looked at the hand in question. "_OW!_" Angie yelped as Maggie moved the fingers back and forth.

"Sorry…prolly not busted," Maggie opined, then giggled. "Ya sure busted _Donovan_, though! Tyler's gonna be pissed you beat him to it."

The slog up the bluff and the sudden confrontation burned away a good deal of drunken haze, leaving Angie and Maggie mostly only emotionally and physically wrung-out, and only residually buzzed.

"Hey, what's going on down there, you ladies starting _another_ war?"

The pair looked up in unison to see Chris Farber leaning over the railing, rifle propped up over his shoulder.

"Angie punched out Mike," Maggie volunteered loudly, and Farber's hoot of laughter drove several sea birds from their nearby perch on the rocks.

"Perfect end to a perfect week," he called down to them. "and it ain't even Friday yet!"

Angie was still staring at her hand and trying to figure out which way to move it that didn't feel like nails were being driven into it. "Not so perfect," she muttered to herself, and yelled skyward, "Tyler? You up there?"

"Nope," Chris hollered in return, "he went to do what he does best… count and clean weapons until there's something to shoot 'em at."

Both Maggie and Angie could hear the unseen grin.

"Not really what he does best," Angie mused as if she were talking to herself.

"It'd be a sorry shame if it was." In spite of the wiseass comment Maggie couldn't stop her "relaxed" mind from wandering into the past.

_God, how long has it been since I could make a joke like that and mean it? Mark wasn't Don Juan but he was all I needed._

"He's good to you, isn't he?" Maggie asked, though she knew the answer already.

Angie thought for a moment, gathering her thoughts as well as her language skills.

_Good to me… as if I had anything to compare it to other than the absence of malice. Okay, only Dad whomped on me when his evil spirit moved him, and that's something I got past a while ago. But who's been __good__ to me besides Tyler? Who's known me and put up with my crap and valued my brains even when he doesn't connect with what they're working on? Okay, Willie maybe, but who's done all that and made love to me like I was God's gift to worthiness? I don't care what he's getting over; he's the only one I never imagined even for a second wasn't using me. He listens, he believes, he puts up with and forgives and asks and talks and opens up even in silence... he __knows__ me…_

"Yeah, he's good to me." After a moment she decided a friend as good as Maggie deserved a little more; for all of her encouragement to ignore convention and follow her heart, Angie knew that Maggie still was just a little fearful that looks might be deceiving. "Nobody but you'll b'lieve it, and you better not _tell_ anyone else, but when I'm upset he just sits with me, rubs my back, doesn't baby me, just _there_ like I need, y'know? He knows what I _need_, Mags, even when I _want_ something else. Th' joke around here is I can't lie to save my ass, well truth is he can't lie to _me_. N'matter how he seems he can't hide from me. He don't even _try_."

It wasn't booze that Maggie and Angie had needed, not drunken loudmouth "Fuck the world", it was just the fact of being together with no plans to make, no subterfuge to finesse. No self to submerge for the greater good. In that respect their night out had been a roaring success. But fragments and shreds of regret and illogical angst remained nonetheless. Maggie had observed that if looks were reality, that in Ham Tyler Angie had found someone ready and willing to help clean up the mess of her personal demons. Maggie had lost that a long time ago, and there were time its absence was like a physical pain. She looked down at her friend, comrade-in-hell, and tried very hard not to be jealous. She succeeded, mostly, in that she was sure she felt no ill will, and she was even grateful that Angie wouldn't be left alone with the loose ends slapping her upside the head late at night. Okay, slapping her they may well be, but Tyler would be there to soothe the wounds. Maggie had friends to ease that existential abuse, but not when she woke in the middle of the night wishing someone could be there at least to tell her to suck it up and get on with it. Nobody did, because everyone knew where she'd been and what she'd done and most had decided distant sympathy was the wisest course. Angie didn't tell her either, but then she didn't need to tell her anything. What they'd been through together said it all. Though, perhaps, Angie's loose ends were a little sharper than most, given Todd's wretched ending.

_Jesus I miss you Mark… even when you didn't get it, you weren't afraid to tell me anything._

Angie braced her back against the lighthouse wall and slid down until she sat flat on the ground. "All partied out, girlfriend… hate bein' such a _pussy_."

"Me too.

Then she reached up and grabbed her friend's hand. "I'm sorry he's not here for you anymore. I know you know me'n' Julie are, maybe others, but it's not the same. I'm so sorry…"

"S'okay Anj." Maggie dropped down in a squat next to Angie. "'m not jealous of you 'n' commando boy, 'm glad you got somebody in this mess."

Angie sighed and shook her head. "Been stupid over 'n' over… what if I'm still stupid?"

"_No_," Maggie insisted, and grabbed Angie's shoulders to emphasize, "no. He _seems_ good for you, when things suck you seem better after bein' with him."

Out of words Angie hugged Maggie, who returned it as they had on the beach, only this time without tears.

_What sucks won't un-suck, so how come he always makes it seem better? _ Angie's thoughts were a whirling mess but she couldn't stop them. _More than promises nobody ever kept, more than looking or feeling, Tyler knows the Zen of what sucks, he __taught__ me that, be still, be quiet, and breathe…_

The random thoughts abandoned her as quickly as they'd flooded.

"Don't think I can walk back, Mag..." Angie didn't trust her feet enough to try them. Fear of falling was both fueled and overwhelmed by the fear of embarrassment. _Mustn't look like a wuss!_ She thought she heard "No problem," but couldn't' be sure. It was just too hard not to lean her head back against the concrete wall of the lighthouse tower and get lost in the stars above.

"Goin' t'bed," Maggie scanned her watch but no matter how early it was, and it was barely 10pm… she had to crash. "Need anything?"

"Yeah," Angie half-sighed, half-moaned in despair, a sudden admission of everything that stewed inside that would find no real resolution. "But he's countin' bullets or somethin'."

* * *

By the time Maggie found her way to the camp's makeshift armory Tyler was on his way out the door. Even the most hardened of hired guns could get bored after checking the inventory twice… or had it been three times? Since the game had fallen into the hands of the über-geeks, the "direct intervention" squad had little to do but wait. "Wait" was not high on Ham Tyler's list of skills.

"Still upright and walking, not bad," he observed. "So where's your partner in crime?"

"Lighthouse," Maggie motioned behind her.

Scanning over her shoulder, he tried to sound neutral. "She okay?"

Even half-tanked Maggie wasn't fooled. She laid a hand on Tyler's arm and assured him, "Yeah. Just wiped out. By th' last few days, y'know?" She waited, and was rewarded by the look she'd hope she'd see.

"No shit. Think she needs some help getting back?" He expected the words "No, thanks." _No use pretending Angie's see-me-to-the-bone can't be passed on to Maggie._

"Yeah, actually, she does. Look can I ask you somethin'?"

"Shoot."

"Y'look so good with her, she says you're so what she needs. She right? You're in for her? For you? Not jus' the war?"

_Everybody either wonders or thinks they know, but nobody else has the balls to ask._

"I'm in for good." Simple words simply spoken, and he knew there'd be no need to clarify.

"Good," Maggie stepped back and took on a formidable demeanor. "Cause if you don't. I'll be here. And I'll fix 'the Fixer', you better believe it."

Any other man would have laughed at the bold, drunken threat. Not being any other man, Tyler pulled Maggie forward and planted a firm kiss on her head. "Good. She needs more like you, in case I fuck up."

"If you fuck up it won't matter who else she needs, because she needs _you_ more than anything."

* * *

Tyler caught sight of Angie lit by the floods on the lighthouse tower. She was sitting on the ground against the circular wall, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around them, head down. Like one of those dumbass lawn statues of a Mexican having a siesta, but no sombrero. As he got closer he could see the uneven movement of her shoulders. _She's trying to tamp it down, 'be still, focus, breathe'… even Reno would admit that some things were more than a match for that. But she's trying, sonofabitch she's always trying. _Tyler had never known anyone who tried that goddamn hard to be something she absolutely did _not_ want to be – a rebel, an adventurer (a killer) – and who would stop being those things the moment the need was over.

_Nope, not trying to be something, trying __not__ to be… trying not to be a liability, and especially trying not to be a wimp. And maybe trying not to be a reason to be left behind when this is all over. _No, not that last one. She seemed surer of him, of _them_, than he could have imagined even a few weeks ago. Rock-bottom suffering had a handy way of burning off the bullshit that could obscure reality. When finally he stood before the still-hunched over Angie, she didn't react.

"Mind some company?"

Silence for a moment, then "Okay," came the muffled reply, but nothing more, so he sat down next to her. Silence lingered. She didn't even raise her head.

"You okay?"

Angie's head rocked up and down. Barely.

_Maybe it'd be better to wait this out. _He rose to leave.

"Guess you'll do better on your own for now."

"_No_, wait."

Angie grabbed Tyler's hand so abruptly (and powerfully) he was almost pulled off balance. She looked up at him and for a minute had no idea what more to say. Her head was a little clearer than a little while ago, but her thoughts wouldn't crystallize. Then it came to her.

"Please, I'm no good on my own, my head's full of noise, you're the only one who can make it quiet, I _need_ you to help me make it quiet again but I don't know if you can, not this time. But I need you to try, okay?"

_Blather blather blather… is he used to it… or tired of it?_

Tyler had certainly seen Angie overwhelmed before, crazy and confused and totally over her head, but looking down at her now he didn't see any of that familiar anguish or desperation in her expression. She looked plain broke-down sad, the kind of look that didn't even hope for relief in its wildest dreams. It shadowed Angie's eyes from within like some deep ugly bruise that couldn't be reached by a mere mortal; it would have to heal on its own. She was clutching his right hand with her left one the way she'd clutched onto his jacket that first night in L.A. when he'd kissed her and then backed away, thinking she wasn't interested. She was grabbing on just like she'd grabbed on that night, like she'd blown a last and only chance.

_Shit, we do read each other wrong sometimes._

"Easy, Angel," he dropped to one knee in front of her and answered as he had that first night, "I'm not going anywhere." Then he sat down next to her again and reached an arm behind her to cradle the back of her head. "Just relax, that noise'll be gone soon."

"I don't think so," she wasn't arguing, exactly, but she was sure she was right. "It hurts less when you're here, though." After a minute or two the ringing/pounding/rushing _had_ nearly subsided and she could feel herself settling down into slow, regular breathing. _Works every time_. Tyler tilted her toward him and when he kissed the side of her head she could feel the tiny slithering sensation where random strands of her hair caught in his beard.

"This week sucked," she moaned.

"Hey, we all got back alive from the raid, you got your bonus files without getting killed, you had your ladies' night with no casualties." _Don't be such an asshole, you know exactly what she means. _

"I'm not stupid," Angie announced, moved by an urgent need to explain what Tyler already understood. "I've learned pretty fast, about rebels and war and things."

"Look, the asshole you killed deserved to die. The asshole _I _killed deserved to die. I know that may not make it easier, but," he didn't get to finish the sentence as Angie pulled away.

"That's not what I _mean_, not really. It's just… three of the people who died this week, I was connected some way to all of them, and the only one that's killing _me_ was supposed to be the _enemy_."

Tyler willed his mouth to stay shut, forcing back the lecture on war-logic that was struggling to get out.

"I'm not _stupid_, okay?" Angie repeated, "I _know_ that no matter what happens sometimes the wrong people die, like when Ruby got killed, like other people here I've never gotten to know, and people I've never met." Now she slumped back against the lighthouse wall again, and that deep bruise of sadness moved from her eyes to her voice. "I just never thought I'd be helping it _happen_, y'know?"

_Nobody ever does. There goes another never, Angel._

"He wasn't exactly a refugee," he reminded her. "He made his choice. He could've run, he could've contacted the fifth column. Hell, they're _all_ trained to fight."

"But he wanted to fight _back_, he told Willie and me that, after he whipped up that last-minute plan to mislead them, he said 'at least I'll feel as if I'm fighting back'."

"Well he couldn't have done that if he'd come here." For a million reasons, none of which Tyler needed to elaborate because she _had_ learned a lot, pretty fast, about rebels and war… and things. When Angie gulped a shuddering breath he slid closer and once again wrapped an arm around her.

"Guess not," she agreed weakly.

"I stand corrected," he admitted, "for some of us this week sucked large. I wish I could change that, but I can't."

"You've seen so much of this shit, you've done so much, I _know_ you and I know couldn't ever have _liked_ it even when the good guys won, but how did you _deal_ with it? Way back, during those first few days, you told me 'you live through it or you don't', but I still don't know how. At the end of the shittiest, most soul-sucking days of your life, _how_?" She shut her eyes as Tyler tipped her head back in the splayed fingers of one hand, touching her cheek with the other like he did when waking her from a bad dream. He could take _those_ away, but the waking world was different.

Right now he most wished he could take that sad, battered look away, and it half killed him to admit he couldn't.

"Before... I don't know…" Tyler shut his own eyes as he traced Angie's slack frown, skipping the tiny scar at the one corner _(that's mine)_ because he knew how she hated when he dwelled on it, "lately, though", he lowered his head to speak next to her ear in his quietest voice, "at the end of the shittiest, most soul-sucking, dead-dog-tired double-long days, I stack up the weapons, and hit the showers," now he rested his forehead briefly on her shoulder, savoring the cool feel of her hand wrapped around the back of his sunburnt neck, "and then I drag my sorry ass to bed and drop one arm around this crazy what-if wondering techno-geek, and she's sound asleep but she makes these loopy little puppy sounds and grabs on like she's afraid I wasn't gonna come back…" he raised his head again and when Angie opened her eyes she saw his, dark chocolate, closely examining her. "That's how."

"Sometimes I _am_ afraid of… that, sometimes I lie awake and wait and can't sleep until you come back…" oddly ashamed to admit it, Angie had to look away. She wasn't drunk anymore, but she was empty of maneuvering skills.

"Look at me, Angel," and he took her face gently (_thanks for giving me a reason_) in his hand and turned it back to his. "If I'm still breathing, I'll come back." He offered a small, ironic laugh with a matching smile. "I may be Career Badass, but you've spoiled me for Loner." Then the Examining look returned. "You're gonna be okay, Angie. You're gonna come out the other side of this, and you're gonna be just fine."

"Promise?"

Her wide-eyed stare postponed his answer as he kissed her, long and deep, and then held her face in both hands in front of his own.

"Cross my black heart," and he gave her hand a firm squeeze to emphasize. The hand that, unbeknownst to Tyler, had beaten down Donovan.

"_Ow!_"

"Shit, what is it?" Had he really grabbed her that hard? When had she become that delicate, he wondered. Seeing her holding her right hand in a very careful grip he had to wonder.

Angie muttered as she stretched out her fingers, grimacing in pain, "Punched out Donovan, it always looks so _easy_ on TV…" Suddenly it came back to her. "You _bet_ on me. Like a goddamn _card_ game. He said I'd been crying so he won the Harley, or something like that, and I tried to knock the light outta my face, but I kind of missed."

"And decked him. Musta been some swing, now he and Ruthie can compare notes... she'd _love_ that," Tyler fell flat over on his back roaring with laughter.

Just then Farber's voice came floating down from the observation deck above, followed by the pale, under-lit circle of his face.

"She told you, huh?"

Without sitting up Tyler hollered back, "Been watching long, you pervert?"

"Yeah, but you're in luck, bro, the camera's back in my bunk. Y'keep those hands in sight, now!" Chris disappeared again.

Angie managed to get to her feet by creeping up the lighthouse wall. She stared down at Tyler, who was holding his hands in the air.

"It was a _joke_," she told him, "lame, but a joke."

"The hell with Farber, gimme a hand will you? Gravity's stronger down here."

So Angie let him grab onto her good hand with both of his and leaned back with all her strength and weight. When Tyler finally heaved himself upright she staggered backward abruptly and would have fallen on her ass if he hadn't jumped forward and caught her.

"Damn, this is the _last_ time I take up with a drunk," he commented as he locked an arm firmly around her waist and helped her back to the barracks.

* * *

In the lab, Robert Maxwell's red, weary eyes lit up with something even coffee couldn't ignite. Willie, who had been poring over the Visitor bio-module for additional clues, was dragged to the microscope. "Look, what's that?"

"Those are my blood cells. It appears some of the cell walls are rupturing… what solution?" Even a Visitor had physical limits, and Willie had been working side by side with Maxwell almost since they'd returned from the raid on the library day before yesterday.

"Nothing, not on purpose anyway. I was gonna throw this one away because I'd spilled some saline on the sample. Willie, I've heard Angie give you a hard time about being afraid of the ocean. Why is that?"

"Salt water, it makes me sick. A am aphasic." Willie's vocabulary and syntax had taken a beating at the hands of sleep deprivation.

"Allergic? You're _allergic_ to it?"

He nodded. "Yes. Many of my kind are." Catching on, he added, "It is not poisonous to us, but too much can make us very sick. Overhung."

"Hungover…" Maxwell thought about this for a moment. "Willie what kind of purifying operations do the Visitors perform on the water they take from us?"

He considered this… "They remove chemicals, impurities."

"Salt."

"No, they take only fresh water."

"But even fresh water contains trace amounts, depending on where they draw it from." Robert's brain was racing. "And the food 'processing', I wonder what gets 'processed'… probably the same chemicals and salts they remove from the water." He paced for a moment, and then stopped, crestfallen. "No, that can't be it. Visitors eat live mammals, and blood contains salt."

Willie interrupted, "No, small size earth mammals are eaten in very small quantities… they are not gathered or eaten in large quantities. The processing would be too much time. They are like, like…" he struggled for a word.

"_Delicacies!"_ Robert nearly shouted. "Like caviar to humans… a steady diet of caviar would make us sick as dogs!" He pulled Willie over to a corner table and pushed him into the chair, dropping into another close by.

"Willie, tell me again why your people are exploring and colonizing."

His friend's obviously conscious diplomacy drew a sad smile from Willie. "Our environment changed… chemical compounds shifted and concentrated. Our water was making us…"

"Sick! It was making you all sick, but there was no epidemic, no plague killing you off?"

"No. But we knew that the time would come when we would have no resources left we may consume."

"Even your purifying and processing technology couldn't do it?"

"No, there was becoming too much." Willie watched as Robert carefully took the slide from the microscope stage and covered it in a petri dish. "Do you think this could help?"

"Help?" Robert was beaming. "I think this could turn this whole war around, and without having to wipe out half a race to do it." He responded to Willie's cautiously inviting expression, "What good is a sick invasion force, with no ability to supply itself?" He began turning off the lights. "C'mon Willie, time to get some sleep. Now that we have the 'what', tomorrow we can talk to Julie and the others about the 'how'. My guess is there are some ideas to be found in that bio-module you've been working on."

Willie allowed himself to be led by the arm down the hallway and out to the compound. "Yes, now I can look for purification cross references."

Robert turned and smiled warmly at him. "Not now. Like I said, time for bed." As Willie turned to return to the lab building, Robert stopped him. "Not this time, Willie. After all you've done for us and with us, everything you've risked and everything you're about to help us achieve, no more sleeping with the lab animals. You're one of us, and if anyone has anything to say about it they'll find I can channel a little Fixer of my own."


	16. Backward and forward

Martin's usually friendly demeanor had been replaced by impatience.

"You're late, and I don't have much time. What happened, did you run into a patrol?"

Donovan's fattening lip was hard to miss.

"Nah, just a little disagreement with a friend. So what did you learn, did that Todd guy do what he said he would or are we on borrowed time?"

"We've always been on borrowed time, Mike. Don't tell me you've forgotten that?"

Donovan shook his head with a hard frown. "Not a chance. So did the High Command send the patrols to our old camp?"

He'd never believed that would happen. Martin's answer shook him nonetheless.

With a grim shake of his head Martin informed Donovan, "Todd's story was never taken seriously. As soon as he returned to the library he was taken up to the mother ship and brought to Diana, and she went to work on him to find out the truth. Shortly before your raid, Command learned that he'd been deleting computer search and viewing trails and were certain that his protégé was a member of the Resistance."

Diana, the commander of the invasion forces. She'd turned a military action into a personal vendetta, having adapted the innate Visitor mania for advancement to her own advantage. She was despised and disdained even by her own kind. But as in all wars, the fear her power engendered protected her. And as all others human or alien, she used that fear to still more advantage.

"Shit!" Donovan felt suddenly queasy. _More _than queasy, knowing that the Visitors had to have converted Todd and gotten almost as much information as they needed to find the rebel camp. Though if Angie had told them all the truth, he didn't know their specific location. _If Angie had told the truth… _ _No_, he decided. For better or worse, Angie would never have lied about anything that might have risked Ham Tyler's life. And to be honest, he was ashamed to have given in to the doubt that she would have risked any of her fellow rebels regardless of their distrust. "Well if he's been converted, we have to move fast."

"No chance of that. Conversion is for the conquered. And the new truth drug is for 'typical' prisoners." Just then Martin looked a little sick, the kind of face Donovan had seen in the mirror when he considered, during his Old World assignments, just how low humanity could sink. "Diana has done some studies on human behavior, and has been impressed by the human refinement of interrogation when information is secondary to punishment."

"You mean torture." Donovan's pre-invasion career had fully educated him in the details of the concept of inflicting pain for the goal of… inflicting pain, when no other benefit was possible. His next question was posed without judgment, "What did he give up?"

"Nothing. Not even misinformation. He told them to 'fuck off and die'. A decidedly _human_ expression I imagine he learned from your friend Angie Harper." Martin paused for a moment as if settling something inside. "You don't understand our idea of torture…"

Donovan cut him off. "I don't need to hear it." He'd probably never meant anything more sincerely in his life.

"I think you do." Martin's demeanor became coldly detached. "I think all of your kind need to hear it, because too many of you still believe that none of us care for anything but saving ourselves. Our ancient history has a very specific tradition of harsh interrogation. We begin by raising body temperature, to increase the sensitivity of sensory receptors. Then the top layers of skin are peeled off, slowly, to expose yet more nerve layers."

"Martin, you really don't have to," Donovan interrupted as much for Martin's sake as his own. In spite of his obvious discomfort, Martin continued.

"Then salted water is doused on the subject, triggering extreme pain and convulsions. But not leading to death."

"_Okay_, Martin, enough!"

Donovan's greenish complexion and hitching breathing told Martin that his message had gotten across. "He died, in great agony and only when Diana allowed it. He told her nothing."

"Nothing of _value_, anyway…" Donovan emphasized. The transformation he saw in his friend and ally made him step back several paces.

"I mean _nothing_!" Martin exploded. Too long risking everything for people who never believed the Fifth Column was quite as _noble_ as humans had worn out his patience. Even Donovan's "enlightened" attitude only seemed to reach as far as his genetics, and what Martin had heard today made him as angry as… as… a human. "He said _nothing_ from the moment he was taken," he continued, "and _your_ people must know this. Every detail that sickens you as a race even as you know you've done the same to your own kind. It's time for your people to believe that some of us, at least, are no different than you. Some of us _will_ sink to anything to benefit ourselves, and some of us will _sacrifice_ ourselves for the right thing even if we're not certain we'll succeed. Your people need to know that many of us want to know you as a new people whose alliance with us can measure more than the sum of both our cultures, even if many of you can't appreciate it." Martin paused, gathering his self control. "I'm not going to apologize, Mike, you think you've understood from the first but..." he didn't finish that thought, and switched to another, "I never met this Todd, but I can't keep from wondering if you or I would have had the blind courage to do what he did… run headlong into absolute uncertainty for something he'd only just begun to believe. No allies, no plans, just the belief that something so wrong must be opposed. I can't help wondering how many others like him there are out there. Like Todd, and Willie, never realizing that others believe as they do but simply knowing something is _wrong_ and that it must be stopped."

Donovan took in what Martin had said and balanced it against what he thought he'd overcome. _Yeah, I'm all right and righteous about playing nice with the "allies" but shit, I never did really believe Todd was anyone worth trusting. Maggie and Angie went through enough shit to make a saint doubt god, but in the end they trusted him._

"Okay, Martin. I'm sorry I'm more one of 'them' than one of us. I guess I was so into being one of the 'good guys against the bad guys' I never thought too hard about anyone who was stuck in between."

Martin seemed edgy. If he'd had a watch, Donovan was sure he'd be looking at it.

"Okay Mike, apology accepted. Humans can only be expected to advance so much." The joke fell flat, but the effort was appreciated. "We'll keep gathering intelligence but as far as another raid we'll have to take the lead from you." In spite of their dark conversation, Martin smiled grimly. "Looks like I'm gonna have to repeat my 'sum of both cultures' speech to my people too."

"Thanks, Martin." The words held far more weight than their syllables. "And I'll find a way to tell Maggie and Angie and Willie about what happened to Todd before everyone else can draw their own conclusions from it. They deserve to hear it first. Not that I pretend to know how to keep from tearing them up with the news."

"I've never met your friends," and suddenly the grimness left Martin's smile, "but I think you don't give them enough credit. We've all been through enough to tear us up, but we're still here."

True enough. Still, as Donovan returned to camp he found himself trying to rehearse his words as carefully as he could.

* * *

"You're sure he didn't tell 'em anything?" Tyler asked after Donovan had filled in the very exclusive pre-camp meeting gathering that included himself, Maxwell, Julie, Willie, Maggie and Angie. Willie looked stricken, and Maggie nauseous. But Angie… for the first time ever Tyler could read nothing at all. The one-way eyes that hadn't mattered so much in the beginning (because they hadn't lasted very long) had slammed shut so abruptly he was surprised nobody jumped at the sound.

"No, Martin's people gave a very, ah, _detailed_ account." Which Donovan himself had spared the others. _Angie and Maggie don't need to hear that shit, it's enough they know any of it._

Angie spoke first in a practical voice that surprised everyone. "So what now? They're allergic to salt, so how do we use that?"

"Much more than allergic," Robert emphasized, "Willie and I have decided that shutting down the Visitor purification capabilities will virtually cripple the invasion. Unfortunately the scope completely exceeds the reach of even the world wide resistance… there's just no way to launch a large enough network of attacks to shut everything down."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that…" Angie mused. Incredibly, she was smiling. "Willie you've been scoping out that 'friendly humans' module, right?"

"Yes. Thousands of humans, the over world, all areas of work. They all seem to be males." He glanced uneasily at the other men. "I do not know why."

"And is there contact information?" Angie prodded.

Willie shook his head in discouragement even as he told her, "Yes, but they seem to be in a primitive earth format, chain mail? There is no connection to the Mother Ship."

"E mail," Julie corrected. "And you're right, the Visitors are way beyond that."

Angie's smile had widened, and only Tyler recognized why. "You guys remember what she said about lizard tech when we first got here?" he asked them.

Blank stares all around.

"Bridge technology," Angie reminded the others, "so they can 'talk down' to us, making it easier to hook up and learn everything." She nodded as her smile widened. "And hello? Why would they have stored email addresses if they weren't considered useful?"

"Great," Donovan acknowledged, "but what the hell can we do with them from our end?"

"Jesus, Gooder, did I slap _all _the sense out of you last night?" Angie turned her attention from Donovan to the rest of them. "Viruses. The plague of the digital age, and email has _never_ been eclipsed as the primo infection agent."

"Good point," Robert agreed, "but how do we get any ally of the Visitors to open an email from _us_?"

_Duh._ Angie rolled her eyes. "Congratulations, Dr. Maxwell, you've just outed yourself as a prime target for spammers and hackers. My bet is you opened every Trojan Horse that galloped your way, am I right?"

Awkward silence from "Dr. Maxwell."

Finally Maggie and Tyler both nailed Angie with a glazed stare. "So why don't you tell us what the _hell_ you're talking about," Maggie invited through clenched teeth, remembering how she'd hated the superior attitude and secret language of the techno geeks back in the Old World. Tyler wasn't far behind.

"We have their names, we figure lots of 'em must know each other depending on their security level and area of work. So… we just take a shot on the names and attach the stuff they'll find the most inviting."

Now Maggie laughed out loud. "_Now_ I get it!"

Tyler raised both hands and beckoned, "And 'it' is?"

"For those close to the top of the Visitor security chain… a message that promises power."

Now Donovan mimicked Tyler's gesture. "And what is the no-fail bait for the rest of us mere male grunts?"

Angie's reply was emphasized by her world class smirk.

"Porn."

Even Julie had to agree.

As expected Tyler was not quite convinced. "Well this all sounds great, but what happens if your happy geek light at the end of the tunnel morphs into an oncoming train?"

"Blow it off the tracks," Angie announced flatly. "Because if this doesn't work, we are flat-out fucked and might as well go out with a bang."

* * *

At the camp-wide meeting that followed the discovery was shared and a plea was put out for anyone adept at programming and/or hacking. A punkish looking teenager, known to have no family in camp, stood up.

"Hey. I was expelled from high school for hacking into the grading system and sending fake failure notices to everyone."

"Must have made you popular," Robert commented archly. The others nodded toward him in encouragement. "You're hired. What's your name, son?"

The punk with the long black hair and grubby clothes shifted uneasily.

"Name, kid, or we're gonna start asking more 'intimate' questions!" Tyler barked.

"Uh… Todd."

The entire assembled camp groaned and grumbled in unison, various "oh shit" and "hell ain't that great" scattered throughout the room.

Angie rolled her eyes and almost laughed. It was _perfect_, in a way. She was _so _tired of having all eyes turn to her at the mention of certain things, and people. And not-people. Maybe this would finally get it out of their system.

Robert shushed the group.

"Fine, Todd, welcome aboard. Willie and Angie and I will catch up with you tomorrow or the next day. Okay, everybody, one more thing. Donovan's contact in the Fifth Column told us that the other 'Todd' you've heard of didn't die in a firefight." No surprised faces.

"I can tell you figured that out on your own," Donovan continued. "What none of us knew is that Diana took a special interest in him, and used some very primitive torture to do it. And that he kept his mouth shut, about everything."

"Right, like we can believe that," an anonymous voice called out.

Mike rose form his seat at the "head table". "You can take it to whatever bank is left standing, wiseass. It's time for all of you to get a grip on it… not every Visitor is the enemy. Once this war is over you're gonna have to face a whole lot of them that wanted nothing to do with what's happened to us, and hating _them_ won't bring back anything you've lost." All at once he seemed taken aback by his own eloquence, and sat down awkwardly. Julie stepped in and ended the meeting.

* * *

When the meeting broke up Angie lit out for the barracks like her ass was on fire, or so Tyler interpreted it as he followed at a respectful (okay, a _wise_) distance. _She's way too cool after hearing about what happened to that lizard. _Tyler read it as overcompensation…he'd become so used to seeing it in Angie that in general it was no big deal. But that still calm in her eyes, the "one way" look, _that_ was something that hadn't shown up in a long time. Feeling something like a sissy Tyler followed (_chased?_ _Nah!) _Angie to their quarters.

When he sauntered – oh, so casually – into the room he saw Angie yanking clothes from the few drawers of the one chest and then dragging out bags from beneath the bed.

"I'm okay," she announced breathlessly without looking at him.

"Bullshit. Don't think I'll believe you're fine after hearing that shit."

Angie stopped then, and stood still to look Tyler in the eye. "I didn't say I'm 'fine', I said I'm okay. You of all people should know the difference." Then she kept talking as she tore through more of her belongings. "I just realized how tired I am of all of this…"

"Angel, you just need to," Tyler began but was shut up sharp by Angie's shout.

"_Stop!_ Okay? Just stop. Jesus it's not your fault but it all adds up to I've figured out the problem here. I'm _tired_ of needing the pep talks and the hugs and kisses to get me past myself, I'm _tired_ of feeling like second string."

"You're _not_ second string. Anyone who says that," and again Tyler was silenced.

"I didn't say I _am_ it, I said I _felt_ like it." Angie paused for a moment and shook her head as if something new had entered and she needed to settle it. Then she went back to rummaging as she continued talking, as if to herself. "And I've figured it out." She stood upright and again looked Tyler in the eye without a hint of doubt or wondering. "And I finally know what's holding me back."

The tip of an icy claw hooked into his gut. And for the first time in living memory Ham Tyler didn't dare open his mouth. He just stood flat-footed as Angie gathered and piled belongings.

_For what?_

Shoving things from one bag to another, then rummaging through drawers, barely pausing for breath, Angie went on, "Honestly, you know me better than anyone and _you_ know I'm not the same person you found broke down under a tree in the middle of fucking nowhere, since then I've shed my skin about a thousand times, all the Old World me that made me feel sorry and guilty and accomplished _nothing_, it's all burnt off bit by bit. But there's one thing left to do, one thing I need to leave behind because I'll never be who I'm meant to be now until I do."

The finality of the statement shook something loose in Tyler and he took a step toward her, "For christsake, Angel... _Angie_, don't do this," and at that second she sprang from where she was crouched over her leather "road bag" and raised a hand in triumph.

"There!" Held aloft in one hand like a trophy was a glittering pair of scissors. Only then did she focus on what he'd almost said. "What?" As they stared at one another, Tyler in confusion and Angie in disbelief, she repeated, "What? Don't do _what_?" she asked.

He didn't answer, but when the chocolate eyes darted quickly around the room and came to rest again on hers, Angie got it. Of all the things she'd seen and felt and done with Tyler, his many looks and smiles and subtle inscrutable masks she'd learned to read, she'd never seen him, well, she'd never seen him _vulnerable_. Like he'd seen her, so many times. The reversal, so brief, was so complete it shook them both.

"Jesus, who's crazy _now_?" Angie muttered, taking in the mess she'd made and shaking her head sheepishly. "You couldn't have thought…"

He tried to shake it off, as well. "Well you tell me what all of this means," he waved his hand around the room, "you tell me what you need to 'leave behind', then we'll _both_ know what to think."

Angie seized the hamster-brown braid that had grown much longer since she'd left her old life, and held it away from her head like a foreign mass.

"_This_, this last part that attached me to me like a fucking leech on my soul, what was and what happened and the parts of me I've gotten past," she paused. "Since coming here, since meeting you and coming here and coming through all this _shit_ it's still here from _before_. If you're right, if I'm gonna come out the other side and be okay, I gotta leave the last of this behind."

She took the end of the tightly-bound plait and abruptly cut off the bottom third, then held it up to show him. "That's the part of me from when I made believe it'd all be over soon, and nothing bad was really happening, when my friends were disappearing and I pretended they just left town." She tossed it in the wastebasket, grabbed the shorter unraveling braid, and cut off another piece as Tyler watched in silence.

"That's the part from when I was with David, wanting to believe his lies enough to pretend they weren't lies at all, not knowing they were bigger and worse than I ever could imagine." Into the wastebasket it went, then she grabbed the last bit she could manage and cut it off close to the back of her neck, "And this is from the months of going undercover and giving up parts of myself I never knew _could _be given up, and learning how low I could sink when I had to… and what I could do on my own because you weren't here for me to fall back on…" her voice trailed off as she dangled the last handful of hair over the wastebasket, "Mexico, this was you in Mexico."

When she faced him again Tyler was struck with the image of Samson, only in reverse. Angie had shorn what she believed made her weak, and it already showed in her face. She looked less weighed down than he'd ever seen her, as if she'd gotten free of that past she was always trying to outrun in her sleep. She held out the scissors to him.

"Can you help me with the rest?" When he didn't answer right away she acknowledged, "I never asked for help before, did I? I always made you offer. Now I'm asking. I'm sorry it took so long."

"C'mere," was all he said as he cleared some random clothes she'd flung on the chair, and sat her down. He was no stylist but he'd gotten the gist of what she needed, and after a few moments what remained of Angie's hamster-brown hair lay in somewhat random pieces and layers against her head, the rest scattered on the floor. When Tyler had finished and laid the scissors on the bureau Angie asked him, "You don't mind, do you?" Some men had such a fetish for long hair.

"Only thing that mattered to me is it was attached to you." He bent and kissed the top of her head, "I love you Angel, braided or bald."

She got up and went to the mirror to look at herself. She saw the same face as before, but could see something different too. Tyler appeared behind her and observed to their reflection, "Looking good."

Then she turned and he saw a smile he'd never seen from her before, coming straight through her eyes. Even the tears that crept into them seemed lit by something.

"Well, Angel, how does it feel?" As she threw her arms around his neck, he knew exactly what she'd say.

"Clean," Angie pulled back a bit, and laughed at his knowing smile, "it feels _clean_."

She stroked the fingers of both hands along his bearded face and offered, "I know this was always just left over from Mexico… If you want to, you can shave it off."

He'd never liked that beard and she knew that as well as she knew he kept it for her because she loved it. Some women had such a fetish for facial hair.

Tyler shook his head and pulled her closer, not very subtly rubbing his face against her hands, and then her cheek, then along her neck and under her ear, smiling against her skin as she shivered.

"Maybe later, maybe not… now c'mere," still making a meal of Angie's neck Tyler drew her toward the corner, and shoving clothes and bags aside with one hand he insisted in a husky growl, "I _know_ there's a bed under here _somewhere…_"

_

* * *

A/N: This isn't quite the end, of course. Another story to follow that brings the rebels in LA and elsewhere to victory, and promises new lives for all._


End file.
